


Sacrifices

by Tgaret990



Series: Angel Soulmates, Destiel and Sabriel [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Is Just Along For The Ride, Angel Wings, Angelic Possession, Chuck Shurley's A+ Parenting, Daddy Issues, Dean and Castiel's Mind Link, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Forgiveness, Heaven Is At War, It was all Chuck's fault, Keeping with the canon plot is harder than with my last fic attempt, Luci genuinely wants to help, Luci is a whiny baby, M/M, Michael's Back, No time to bring back Gabriel huh Chuck?, Onslaught of Feels, Protective Castiel, Protective Gabriel, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Soulmate rituals are now a thing, Soulmates, The trickster lives!, They all probably need therapy, Time Travel, True Forms, Whelp it's time to explain Gabriel, set in season 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 80,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tgaret990/pseuds/Tgaret990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is back from the dead somehow and has returned with a purpose: help the Winchesters beat his evil aunt, The Darkness, Amara. Now that Castiel and Dean have realised their feelings for each other, will their relationship survive when the fate of the world rests in their hands? With everything going on, will Sam and Gabriel ever have time to deal with their feelings for one another? And why is Lucifer so eager to help in all this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return of the Archangel

Chapter One: Return of the Archangel

 

A/N: For those of you who read my one-shot, An Angel’s Soulmate, here’s the sequel you’ve been asking for. I suggest reading it if you haven’t, but you don't really need to to understand this sequel. My priority fic at the moment is my WWE fic, You Saved Me From the Darkness, so updates for this will probably be super slow and random depending on how much time I have to write chapters. This’ll pick up a little after the events of the one-shot. With some fluff before the plot begins, this story will follow the current events of season 11. Sorry in advance if Gabriel and the rest of the characters are a little, or a lot, OOC. It’s been a few seasons since I’ve seen *cough cough fake Loki!* him. Read, review if you like, and enjoy. Disclaim: I don’t own SPN or anything affiliated w/ Supernatural. I'm just a WWEFangirl who loves writing Destiel ff! ;)

 

 

    Everyone was still in shock. Gabriel, the youngest and most mischievous archangel that God created, was alive. He was stabbed by Lucifer himself right before their eyes, so how...? They didn’t question further. God had brought him back and they were grateful, but no one was brought back unless they had a purpose. Unfinished business, a prophecy, Amara/The Darkness. It’s why Dean, Castiel, and Sam had been brought back many times before, so why would it be different for Gabriel? They never really questioned it and he never explained.

 

    Though they thought the trickster had been brought back to help deal with The Darkness, his real reason revolved around one hunter: Sam Winchester, though he wouldn’t learn this until much later. He would never admit it, but he had a soft spot for the younger Winchester. Those beautiful hazel eyes, flowing chestnut locks of hair, thinks before he acts, tries to be rational, isn't selfish. He could go on and on about him and never run out of things to say about Sam. The fact of the matter is that Gabriel had a crush on a Winchester. A WINCHESTER. Not just any Winchester, Sam Freaking Winchester. Of course, Gabriel was so consumed in these thoughts that he didn’t even notice someone enter the room, let alone lay a hand on his shoulder. As soon as he felt it, he drew his archangel blade and pointed it straight at the intruder’s throat, who was pointing one at his in return. “Put down your weapon, brother,” he said. Gabriel scoffed and lowered his blade.

 

    “Whatever Dean blamed me for, it wasn’t me, I swear. He was the one who took your-- Oh, you found it. The feathers were my idea.” Castiel stood with an irked look on his face. His trench coat was soaked in maple syrup and chicken feathers on the inside. Blame Crowley for referring to the angel as the Winchesters’ “feathered friend”, because that's where the idea came from. He could hardly hold in a laugh at the sight. His younger brother’s clothes were a white, sticky, fluffy sight to behold.

 

    “I may not be human and I may reside in Heaven, but I understand what’s at stake right now. The fate of this Earth is in the hands of Sam and Dean. If you really were brought back to help them, start being serious and stop acting like an overgrown child,” Castiel growled as he flew off in a huff. That’s when the trickster started to laugh. At first it was more of a snicker, then it got louder the longer it went. He knew he needed to be serious, but that was exactly Castiel’s problem. He was too serious sometimes, didn’t know how to lighten up. Just the look on his face as he left... Sam chose this moment to walk past the room to get breakfast. Seeing Gabriel with that joy filled look on his face, eyes bright and dazzling, head thrown back with his chuckle echoing throughout the bunker, made Sam feel like he was on cloud nine.

 

    He, secretly, had a slight, minor, itty-bitty, crush on the trickster. He never did fully forgive Gabriel for making him relive Dean dying for thousands of Tuesdays in a row, but he had saved their lives and given them help when the least expected it. Being grateful was one thing, but owing your life to someone was something completely different, especially if it was to a powerful, bold, brave, hot archangel who actually cared about you. Gabriel was easy to be around sometimes. If you needed to lighten the mood, he’d be there. He was a great ally to have on cases when fights broke out, for scouting, detecting traps; Gabriel was just a great person-- angel-- to have as a friend. Friend was a major understatement to Sam though. Even family wasn’t a strong enough word. He wanted them to be more than that. It seemed crazy to think that way. He hardly knew Gabriel. It wasn’t like with Castiel where they’d fought side by side for years, or gotten dragged out of Hell on completely voluntary suicide missions. Gabriel had done nothing but make their lives miserable up until the day he “died” for them. Nowadays, however, it didn't matter to Sam anymore. He knew Gabriel had just been looking out for them the entire time, and he'd come to appreciate that, more so than anyone knew.

 

    Gabriel turned when he sensed someone in the doorway. He beamed even wider when he saw Sam. “We have a habit of finding each other like this, don't we?” he asked. Sam chuckled nervously at him, walking over and plopping down in the chair next to his. He really hoped no one could see the blush slowly creeping across his cheeks.

 

    “Yeah, I guess we do…” Sam fidgeted a bit and took a deep breath before continuing. “So, how have you been?” The archangel raised his eyebrows at the question.

 

    “How have I been? Well, other than the fact that I was dead for years and I was just revived a little while ago, along with the fact that my crazy aunt is running wild and wreaking havoc, I'm just peachy,” he responded. He didn't mean to sound annoyed, but he must have if Sam’s apologetic voice was anything to go by.

 

    “Sorry, I just… I'm still trying to wrap my head around this. It’s a lot to take in that one of the archangels who you owe your life to is alive after he died for you…” Sam said, feeling guilty for getting on Gabriel’s nerves. He’d only been alive again for a few days and he wasn't helping things. The trickster’s expression softened as he replied.

 

    “Hey, I didn't mean it like that. It’s fine, I just… I'm just as confused as you. Besides Samsquatch, it’s good to see you again.” Sam blushed and muttered a quiet, “You too.” before getting down to business.

 

    “So, Castiel told you the situation with the Darkness, right?” Gabriel nodded. “And he told you about my… visions from God?” Again, the trickster nodded. “And you know what we w--”

 

    “If you ask me another question about something again, you're gonna end up like Cassie back there. Covered in feathers and maple syrup because he’s called a “feathered friend” of the Winchesters. Only this time, I might give you antlers. Crowley has to call you moose for a reason. I'll give him an actual one,” Gabriel deadpanned, making Sam cover his head in a defensive manner. “Yes, I know you wanna spring my obnoxious big brother from his cage. The question is how? The bigger question is why?”

 

    “You’re not getting anywhere near my head,” he said with a smile, “And Dean and I have a plan. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s a plan. God locked away Amara with the help of the archangels. They're more powerful than hundreds of angels combined! And since Lucifer is the strongest and the only one still kind of their right mind that’s alive--”

 

    “Uh, hello?!" he exclaimed, pointing to himself, "I’m right here!” Gabriel stated with an outraged expression on his face. Sam shook his head. This was gonna be harder than he thought.

 

    “Well, we didn’t know that you were alive before I started getting the visions. They're from God himself. Your dad has to have a reason for showing me the Cage. He even showed me talking with Lucifer!”

 

    “So you see my big brother “talking” with you, in the Cage, and you assume this means break him out? Are you out of your mind?! Also, how do you know that Dad is sending you these and it’s not some angel or demon messing with your head?” the trickster questioned.

 

    “Because they happened after I prayed,” Sam insisted. “Every time I asked for guidance, a sign, something to help us with the Darkness, I got a vision. He heard me.”

 

    “Come on, Samantha. No one’s heard or seen pops in forever. Are you sure the right person heard you? Are you sure you're not imagining things? Just lookin’ for a way out?”

 

    Sam stood with a frustrated look on his face. “I know what I saw. And I know where the visions came from and what they mean. We need him, Gabriel. I'm going to get him, with or without your help, and not you, Dean, Cas, or anyone else can stop me,” he growled with a tone of finality. Of all the people he thought would understand him, he believed Gabriel would be that person. You think you know someone… The younger Winchester stood up and left the room, not noticing the sad stare he was receiving. ‘ _Oh, Sam. Sammy, Samuel, Samantha, Sam... If only you knew just how much you mean to me. If only you knew how much I care about you. I won’t let Lucifer, or anyone, manipulate you. I won't let you do this.'_   He smiled mischievously. ' _And I know exactly how to stop you._ ’


	2. Angel Wings

Chapter Two: Angel Wings

 

A/N: So… It’s been a while. It’s a rainy day, which means I'm cooped up in my room on my tablet and PS3 battling boredom. I had about half this chapter done before the inspiration just vanished. Mind you, this story’s not out of hiatus just yet, but I think I owe it to you to crank out another chapter. This one’ll be more Destiel. In which there is a wing kink of sorts. Sam has a cameo. Read and enjoy chapter 2. Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Supernatural except my story and ideas. I’m just a writer who should’ve updated this story months ago.

 

 

    To say that Dean Winchester was excited was the understatement of the century. They had an archangel on their side that could help them with Amara, even if it was his least favorite trickster, he could finally openly express his love to Castiel, and Sam was back to his old self. Actually, he was the happier, and more flustered, version of his old self. He was so excited, that he even tossed his trademark grin and friendly greetings to Gabriel the next day. The amber-eyed angel looked at him bewildered, not believing his eyes. “Castiel! What did you do to him?!” he shouted exasperated, annoyed, and confused. Dean just flips him off and goes on his merry way. He passes by Sam and says, “Go get him, tiger,” giving him a thumbs up. Sam scowls with slightly pink cheeks.

 

    “Jerk.”

 

    “Bitch,” Dean happily jabs right back over his shoulder. He can hear a sigh as he continues on his way to Castiel’s “room." Usually, Castiel would be in and out of the bunker. Scouting for possible monsters to hunt, picking up food for the brothers, just getting out to stretch his wings. Today, he was actually in his room, sitting on his bed and reading from a pile of books. He glanced at the author’s name on the covers. James Patterson. “Maximum Ride. The end of the series will kill you, trust me. When poor little Angel--”

 

    “Don’t spoil it, Dean. What’s the purpose of me borrowing the books if you're just going to tell me what happens?” Castiel asked without looking up. Dean sat beside him and pulled the book away from his new boyfriend’s hands. He was about to protest when Dean pulled him close, faces barely a centimeter apart. Green eyes meet sapphire ones before they closed the distance between each other, moving their lips together slowly. They were both a bit out of breath when they pulled apart.

 

    “It’s so awesome to finally be able to do that. Fantasies don’t even come close to--”

 

    “You fantasize about moment like this?” Dean looked away, cheeks slightly tinged pink. Of course he would say that out loud. Cas smiled to him. “What do you have to be embarrassed about, Dean? Is it so wrong for you to imagine the things that you want?”

 

    “It is if you're convinced you're straight, a manly badass, and never thought you’d have an amazing angel as a boyfriend. Can you blame me? What were the chances this would happen?” The seraph took the Winchester’s face in his hands.

 

    “Don’t dwell on the past. Just focus on what’s happening. Right. In front. Of you.” Castiel pushed Dean down onto his back and moved to where he was straddling him. Dean looked intrigued, yet still worried about what Castiel might do to him. The angel leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. The Winchester wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed right back. He tried to make sure there was absolutely no space separating them from each other. Their bodies were pressed together tightly. Dean slid the trench coat down Castiel’s shoulders and onto the floor. He began to unbutton the dress shirt, struggling with the buttons. He didn't touch the tie. Castiel, sensing his urgency, snapped his fingers. Both of them were shirtless and panting at that point. With his grace, the angel poured out his emotions into Dean, making the hunter gasp out in shock. He eagerly returned the gesture, knowing Castiel could feel it, while his calloused hands roamed over the smooth, strong back. Again, much like before, the use of his grace inadvertently brought out his wings. Dean paused in his movements.

 

    “Have I ever told you how beautiful and awesome your wings are?” Castiel stopped pressing open mouthed kisses to his lover’s neck and pulled away.

 

    “You can see them?” Experimentally, he flexed his wings outward, watching as Dean’s eyes followed the movement.

 

    “So most people can’t?”

 

    “No. Only other beings such as demons, gods, and the like have the capability of doing so.” He pulled them closer towards them and felt Dean reach out and gently stroke his feathers. Castiel squirmed a bit, surprised at the pleasure shooting down his spine and all throughout his body. Dean kept touching his wings, causing him to let out little whimpers and moans.

 

    “Feel good?” Dean asked teasingly, liking the things he heard and wanting more. He didn’t want to rush things, though his actions suggested otherwise, hoping and praying (Yes, praying. God had yet to acknowledge him in the slightest, yet was reaching out to Sam? Now he knew who the favorite was…) that this worked between them. His fingers slid further through the sleek, midnight black feathers towards Castiel’s shoulders. The sounds coming from his mouth increased in pitch slightly, before his fingers reaching the base of his wings. The seraph squeezed his eyes shut, head tilted back as a loud moan escaped his lips. He glowed, literally, blinding Dean slightly as the light grew brighter. He removed his hands from Castiel’s wings and closed his eyes until the light faded. He opened his eyes and said, “Holy shit. Is that what gets you off? I could do it some more if you want.”

 

    “No, it doesn’t arouse me, Dean, but it’s an intimate gesture when one touches an angel’s wings. It’s usually other angels that do so, however.” The angel was out of breath and out of it. When he came back to his senses, he replied, “And we can continue this later. I’d very much like that.” Castiel waved his hand, unlocking and opening the door. Gabriel stood there with a knowing smirk on his face.

 

    “Am I interrupting something, lovebirds?” Dean groaned and reached for his shirt that suddenly decided to appear on the floor next to him. Gabriel’s gaze traveled to Castiel’s wings and shirtless form to Dean, going back and forth. Wait a second. “He can see them?!” Gabriel exclaimed eyes wide and knowing it could only mean one thing. An angel’s soulmate was revealed when that person could see and touch their wings, when their soul can make contact with an angel’s grace willingly. There is the rare exception where people can see the wings, but not be able to physically make contact with them. Wings were a part of an angel’s essence, grace, and being after all. Castiel nodded, snapping his fingers so he was wearing the rest of his clothes. Gabriel clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “And you were telling me to take this seriously. Says the angel trying to--”

 

    “Was there something of import you wished to discuss, brother?” Castiel asked, cutting the archangel off before he could finish his sentence. He wouldn’t get his hopes up too soon. Dean Winchester, his soulmate? Gabriel huffed, making a lollipop materialize out of thin air.

 

“I need your help distracting Samoose. He’s planning on doing something really stupid and there’s no way I'm letting him go through with it. It has to be something that gets all of his attention…” Suddenly Gabriel’s face lit up. His previous idea had been good, but he’s pretty sure that **this** idea would be better than putting him in a time loop much like the one he’d stuck Dean in. At least this one didn’t involve anyone dying. Of course, he might go ahead and do the loop anyway to keep Sam distracted longer. Decisions, decisions. “Pretend I was never here,” the trickster said, vanishing with a powerful flap of his wings. Dean looked to Castiel.

 

“So he interrupted us for… what exactly?” Castiel just gave him that adorable head tilt. This angel would be the death of him one day, he swore to Chuck.

 

 

Closing A/N: *starts rewatching season 11* With the school year, I probably won’t have time to work much on this fic. A million apologies. I’m just curious, but is there anyone who wants me to write the infinite time loop scene? Let me know if it’s something that piques your interest. Until next chapter I guess. Thank you to all of my patient readers. I feel like such a horrible person…


	3. Love Is Power?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idea came to me and I ran away with it. Look at me messing up my plot...

Chapter Three: Love Is Power?

 

A/N: Takes place a little after Gabriel’s talk with Sam in chapter one. This’ll kinda-ish play a role in the whole breaking Lucifer out of the cage thing later on, as will the next chapter. I kinda ran away with this one idea, so this didn’t turn out how I thought it would… Heheh… Big thanks to Wolflover235 for the review and FandomWorld9728 on AO3 for the comment! Enjoy chapter 3!

 

 

     Gabriel was acting weird. Well, weirder than usual in Sam’s eyes. The trickster’s usual teasing of him had stopped, their conversations hardly more than a few words. Even his abundance of pranks had stopped. What happened to the mischievous, upbeat, colorful personality of the trickster he’d developed feelings for? Of course, maybe this wasn’t the best time to be thinking about that. Less worrying about Gabriel, more worrying about why this demon was still in the body of that innocent little girl despite all the brothers’ efforts to exorcise him. Dean recited the chant once again and again nothing happened. It was times like these where having a demon on your side would’ve helped tremendously. 

 

     “Ha! You think some simple exorcism is gonna get rid of me?!” The black eyed demon asked, baffled. “Your petty words can’t do a thing!”  

 

     “Shut up, you black eyed son of a--” The older Winchester stopped himself. Dean growled, frustrated. ‘ _If Cas were here, this’d be over in two seconds!_ ’ he thought. (Of course, he was trying to find more information on Amara and fend off a few rogue angels back at the bunker at the moment, so…) Dean couldn’t risk hurting the girl since the demon was using her as a vessel. What to do…? 

 

     “Insulting him won’t help, Dean,” Sam told his brother. Dean glared at him.

 

     “Yeah, well, you got any better ideas?!” Dean asked angrily. He took a deep breath and tried to reach Castiel. _‘Cas, I know you're busy, but we need--’_

 

     ‘ _Bad time, Dean! In the middle of something!_ ’ In the background, there was the sound of shouting and metal on metal. Well then… Okay. No chant, object, or symbol would make him budge. They couldn’t injure the girl and even if they could, they wouldn’t. The scene just didn’t look right. There was a little kid, **chained to a chair** , inside a devil’s trap, with eyes as black as charcoal, laughing like a deranged clown. So much for an easy, run of the mill case.

 

 _‘Oh God, what do we do?_ ’ Sam hadn’t meant it as a prayer, really. It was more of a habit, one he should really drop. As soon as he finished that thought, he received a response. ‘ _Your powers, Sam_ ,’ a voice said in the younger brother’s head. 

 

     “What?” Sam asked aloud. Dean growled again.

 

     “I said--”

 

     “No, not you!” Who was saying that to him? And what powers?! ‘ _Your demon expelling powers_ ,’ the voice answered. He hadn’t had those powers since Ruby had gotten him hooked on demon blood and manipulated him into kickstarting the Apocalypse. What made anyone think he had them now? ‘ _How_ _do you know that you lost them? Have_ _you_ _even **tried** using them_ _since_ _then_?’ That’s besides the point! Nevertheless, Sam raised his hand at the demon and focused. It was worth a shot, right?

 

     “What? Are you gonna try a spell now or something? Words don’t work on me! I can’t believe that you're the Winchesters that all creatures are supposed to fear--” He finished the sentence with a pained gasp as he felt his very being begin to be ripped from the girl’s body. He screamed in agony and Dean watched in shock as Sam forcefully pulled the demon out of her body, dragging him back down where he belonged. The taller brother hardly broke a sweat as the demon disappeared in a fiery blaze. Dean looked at Sam’s face, into his eyes, and sees them… glowing?! They heard a moan of pain from the figure tied down to the chair. The young girl’s eyes flew open and her head turned to the two brothers. 

 

     “Where am I?” she asked timidly, on the verge of tears. “… What happened to me? There was a scary, dangerous man. He… he… What’s going on?”

 

     “I’d like to know that myself,” Dean replied, watching Sam lower his hand and untie the child from the chair inside of a demon trap, eyes back to their normal hazel hue. Sam reassured her that she was safe and that the “scary, dangerous man” was gone. After the two returned her home to her worried sick parents, Dean began driving them back to the bunker. The ride was silent for the first few minutes, the radio untouched, neither brother making eye contact with the other. Then, Dean spoke. “Okay, what the Hell was that?!” he asked outraged. “You know how I felt when you first told me about those powers! You don’t use them for a few years and now you pull them out like a rabbit from a hat? Seriously Sammy, why?”

 

     “I prayed, Dean, by accident, but I did. And someone answered,” Sam replied. The older brother shook his head and turned to him, not worried about the road since they were on an empty highway. “Don’t. Look, all the signs have pointed to Him helping us, throwing us a bone--”

 

     “Sam, I don't wanna hear it. Remember what happened the last time you--”

 

     “There’s no Ruby, no craving for demon blood, and I'm pretty sure Cas or Gabriel could heal me if there was. There is no harm in using my powers, Dean. Besides, without them, we probably would’ve had to kill that girl. Just trust me on this.” 

 

     “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” the leather clad man said, training his gaze on the road once more. “It’s **never** that I don’t trust you. I just don’t wanna lose you again…” Sam squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

 

     “You won’t. Promise.” He pressed a kiss to the side of his brother’s head. Dean recoiled with a look of disgust on his face. 

 

     “Ugh! Dude, no chick flick moments! That’s just gross!” Sam smiled cheekily at him.

 

     “You still love me, Dean.”

 

     “Yeah, yeah,” he replied. To Sam’s surprise, Dean leaned over and kissed his forehead back and then his left cheek. Not only was the younger brother confused, but he was blushing as well! 

 

     “The great Dean Winchester has gone soft on me! It’s the start of another apocalypse!” he proclaimed, trying to cover up his blunder. Dean lightly pushed his brother away.

 

     “Shut up,” he said with a smile. Maybe he was going just a _little_ itty bit soft. Was that such a bad thing, especially when it was towards Sam? Nah, he thought. They cruised down the highway, back to the bunker after a quick pit stop for some pie, not expecting what they were about to see. Dean almost dropped the pie when he saw the mess that was the library.

 

XxX

Earlier…

 

    _“Are you sure you can’t come, Cas?” the elder Winchester asked once more. The seraph shook his head with a sad smile._

 

_“You don’t need me, Dean. It’s a simple demon possession. You'll be back before you can miss me. Besides, my time will be better spent researching the Darkness,” Castiel replied. Dean huffed, but knew he was right. This wasn’t a dangerous case and research would get done faster if he had his angel helping them look. His angel. He internally sighed contently. Dean pocketed his phone and was about to head out the door when Castiel gently, but firmly, took his arm. He pulled him back and gave Dean a chaste, gentle kiss that the hunter returned. “Be safe,” he whispered when they broke apart, still in close proximity with one another._

 

_“Always,” Dean whispered back._

 

_“Ahem!” The two looked to the door to find Sam standing there with his arms crossed, impatiently tapping his foot. “You two done, because there’s an innocent eight year old girl being possessed by a demon out there who needs help.”_

 

_“Yeah, yeah. I'm comin’.” He threw a loving glance back at Cas before following his brother out, closing the door softly behind him. That’s when Gabriel walked into the library, looking around at all the tomes, books, and scrolls._

 

_“If it makes you feel any better, Cassie, I’ll go look after ‘em for you. They won’t even notice I’m there. It’ll ease your conscience, I’m sure.” Castiel smiled softly at the archangel._

 

 _“Thank you, brother.” Gabriel gave him_ _a cheesy smile and salute before vanishing with a flap of his wings. The angel went back to looking through books and old papers, reading and rereading each page. It was the usual stuff they’d find: the story of the battle between the Darkness and God and his archangels, Amara is God’s sister, the Darkness is feared by all, yada yada yada. There was a passage that went more in depth about the battle than most that piqued his interest. As he began reading it, he sensed another presence enter the bunker. Five, to be exact. He put the dusty scrolls down, got up out of the chair, and turned around. Standing before him was Laura, flanked by four other angels whose angel blades were out and pointed at him._

 

_“Laura,” he greeted her._

 

_“Castiel. Long time, no see,” she greeted back. Her cold gaze made him feel uneasy. She took in her surroundings and looked back at him. “You know why we’re here… Where are the Winchesters? Don’t tell me you don’t know because that’s just bullshit. They were here.”_

 

    _“Laura, I don't want to start a fight, but I will finish one if necessary. You already know how this conversation will end. I'll ask you once: Leave now, before one of us does something we’ll regret.” She sneered at him._

 

_“You’re right. I do know how this conversation will end. It’ll end with your painful death after you tell me where those two abominations went!” Without warning, she and a companion lunged at him and the other three spread out, flanking and outnumbering him. He quickly pulled his blade to block the strikes, a spark or two flying from the impact. That blow had been intended to kill, no doubt, or at least fatally wound. Castiel’s eyes widened. She was not kidding around. He knocked them back with a strike of his own, putting some distance in between them. From behind, he heard rushed footsteps, ducking a swipe at his neck and swinging his blade around. He connected with another blade, but had no time to catch his breath as two more angels attacked from his left. They went back and forth, Castiel forced to block three blades, getting nicked by one every now and then. He felt Dean reach out to him through their mind link. ‘Bad time, Dean! In the middle of something!’ was all he could he think before he felt a blade sink into his left arm. He cried out in pain before dislodging the blade. The angel on his right scurried over to Laura, watching the battle with her._

 

_“You know that they’ll have our heads for this if they find out, right?” he asked the ravenette quietly. She gave him a look._

 

_“Fear not, Nandriel. He won’t live long enough to report back to Hannah, or anyone for that matter.” He took her hand gently and they looked into each other’s eyes._

 

    _“Just… don’t do anything reckless. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you on my watch.”_

 

_“Yet it is I who is always saving you,” she said with a smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I’ll be fine.” Her features became serious once more as she dropped his hand. She watched Castiel go back and forth, toe to toe, with three of her four best officers, holding his own fairly well. When he felled one of them, she growled and leapt back into battle. Now, it was four on one. “Give it up, Castiel! You can’t kill all of us! You’re no match for me and three others.” It was true that Laura had been tough competition back in their training days and that they were almost evenly matched, but  that was back then. He’d come a long way since then, and it showed with the frustrated look on Laura’s face every time she took a swipe at him. He’d felled another angel after a missed lunge from Nandriel, making the odds three against one._

 

_“You must really care about those two if you're fighting this hard to keep them safe. Which one should I kill first after I'm done with you, huh? How about the cute one, Dean? I wonder how long it’ll take him to break if an angel is torturing him? His screams will be music to my ears,” she growled in his ear when they were caught in a deadlock, blade to blade, chest to chest, face to face. A sudden movement could result in either angel’s death. “And I'll enjoy every second of it,” she finished with a smirk. The seraph’s eyes went wide and something inside him snapped as they became filled with anger. His ocean blue eyes glowed brightly and narrowed at her. Laura felt pure malice and anger directed towards her. One look in his eyes had her scrambling back to get away from the intense emotion rolling off him. All she said was that she’d kill a Winchester. Creatures threatened that all the time and he didn’t react that way with **them**. _

 

  _“Don’t you touch him, you (utters something threatening in Enochian)!” he snarled at her, wings flaring behind him and wind picking up seemingly out of nowhere. A kind of storm started, whipping the contents of the room around and scaring the shit out of the two intruders. The light from his eyes intensified, surrounding his entire being as he threw Nandriel through the library doorway, completely crushing the arm he grabbed to throw him. He was unconscious before he hit the floor. His other companion fled, but not before he got sliced in his left leg by Castiel’s blade. He turned his gaze back on Laura, who’d rushed to the side of her injured, but still alive lover. She had a look of pure fear in her eyes. What was this… power emanating from him?! Neither of them heard the door to the bunker open and the Winchesters walk in. She held her angel blade in front of her, pointed at her old rival. She wouldn’t go out without a fight. She wouldn’t let him harm Nandriel anymore. She owed him that much for always being by her side._

 

_Dean stopped Sam from taking another step. Something wasn’t right. Call it hunter’s instinct, paranoia, or common sense, but there was something funny going on. “What is it?” Sam asked him. Dean put a finger to his lips and tried to communicate with Castiel. ‘Cas? Cas! What’s going on?’ He didn’t get a response. He was probably too absorbed in whatever he was reading. He tried harder this time, determined to see what his boyfriend was thinking about. ‘CAS!’ He recoiled and winced, holding his head and squeezing shut his eyes. How could Castiel feel so much… anger? He always radiated calmness, but now… “Dean! You okay?”_

 

_“I-I’m fine.” The green eyed Winchester’s eyes snapped opened and he ran towards the library, where he knew his boyfriend would still be. He almost dropped the pie when he saw the scene in front of him. Castiel was fucking glowing like the lights on a Christmas tree, staring down some woman, no, **angel** , with murder in his eyes, wings spread intimidatingly and power radiating from inside the room. He and Sam put hands in front of their faces as the wind in the library whipped objects dangerously around them. With unheard of speed of any being, Castiel went from standing in the center of the room to stabbing Laura in the chest, getting stabbed himself, though not feeling it at the moment. After a strangled scream, she collapsed, lifeless, slumped beside her unconscious ally. That’s when Dean did drop the pie. What the fuck just happened? _

 

XxX

Present

 

     “Cas?” Dean asked nervously with a gulp. The trenchcoat clad seraph’s head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice. His gaze softened tremendously when he spotted Dean. He wiped off and pocketed his angel blade as his eyes’ glow dulled back down to their normal blue and the wind disappeared. The library was a mess with papers littering every surface, desks and bookshelves upturned and scratched, and three dead, plus one unconscious, angels with scorched angel wing shadows beneath them.

 

     “Dean,” Castiel said before his legs buckled underneath him. The older Winchester ran to catch him before he could completely hit the ground. He did a quick onceover of his boyfriend as Sam was checking the pulse of Nandriel, shaking his head. “Laura… and other rogue angels… attacked me. They… they were looking for you.”

 

     “I can see that, but what the Hell happened in here? Just a minute ago, all I could read from you was that you were about to completely destroy whatever was pissing you off. Who did all this?” he asked, gesturing to what was left of the library.

 

     Breathing heavily, Castiel replied, “ … I did. Laura,” he pointed to the black haired angel with equally black, empty eyes, “Threatened you. I don't know what happened after that. All I know is that Nandriel is still alive and… I stabbed her.” The seraph shut his eyes as a wave of pain and exhaustion settled over him. He also noticed a few cuts along his arms and torso where small amounts of grace escaped hadn’t quite healed up yet as he reopened his eyes and tried to get to his feet. He tried, and failed successfully, once again being caught by his boyfriend.

 

     “Hey, hey. Easy there, angel. I gotcha.” Dean threw one of Castiel’s arms around his shoulder and hoisted him to his unsteady feet. “Sam!” His brother looked up. “When I get done fixing up Cas, we're gonna get some answers outta that winged piece of crap down in the dungeon.” Sam only nodded and hoisted the unconscious angel’s body up as well. They both walked out of the library, taking separate paths to get to their destinations. Dean half dragged Castiel to his room, which was closest, while Sam took Nandriel to the dungeon of sorts. He began writing warding symbols along the walls and had the angel chained to the chair in the middle of the room. Sam borrowed one of Dean’s spare angel blades and held it in one of his hands, in case he needed it when the winged being came to. Once Dean got to his room, he gently laid Castiel on his bed. The cuts were still healing, even though some grace would fix it in an instant, or they would heal naturally. Pulling off the trench coat and button up shirt, Dean gingerly traced his finger around the the stab wound in his chest with a wet cloth. A sharp intake of breath was all he heard, but the cut must’ve hurt.

 

     “You need to stop scaring me like that,” the hunter whispered to him, grabbing a hidden first aid kit and trying to clean the wound the best he could. “You had me worried there for a second.” Castiel smiled softly at him.

 

     “You don’t need to worry about me, Dean. I am thankful for your concern. If anything," he winced, "I should be more worried about you.” The human sighed.

 

     “Says the guy who loses it when someone threatens me,” he mumbled. “Until your mojo starts healing you again, we should probably wrap some bandages around that.” Castiel nodded, slowly sitting up as Dean grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped them around his chest.

 

     “There, all done,” he said after a minute or two. “And just so you know, you looked badass as fuck back there.” The seraph chuckled softly. 

 

     “I’d do anything for you, Dean.” Dean kissed his cheek and took a seat next to him.

 

     “I know,” he replied back. “And so would I.”

 

XxX

 

     Sam was leaning by the door of the bunker’s dungeon, staring absentmindedly into space, when a pain filled groan echoed through the room. Nandriel stirred slightly, making the chains around him rattle slightly. Sam stood up and stood a few feet away from the angel. “Wh-Where am I? What--?” he asked groggily. His left arm hung limply while his right pulled at the chains around him.

 

     “Hey, I’m asking the questions here, so don’t even.” Sam told him angrily. Attacking Cas was inexcusable. Sure, Dean would probably kill the angel right then and there, but Sam cared deeply for their winged ally too. Castiel was family. “Who are you?” The angel took a few deep breaths before answering.

 

     “Nandriel. I'm one of the angels who chose to leave Heaven in search of you and your brother.”

 

     “Why?”

 

     “… Laura thought you were too dangerous to be left to your own devices, roaming free. Many others agreed. She assembled a task force to find and… kill you. Some of our brothers and sisters, however, were against the idea, whether it be for moral reasons or because they weren’t your enemies. Most of the force was killed before we could escape, but we did. We searched until it led us here.”

 

     “Why did you go after Cas instead of looking for us or waiting for us to get back? You could’ve easily ambushed us.”

 

     “I wasn’t the leader of the group, Laura was. I’d follow her anywhere… I didn’t particularly want to come here, but I wasn’t about to just let her leave without me. She… she died to protect me, by my side, like it’s always been. We never meant for any of this to happen!” Sam raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

 

     “And I'm just supposed to believe you? How do I know if you're telling the truth?” A flutter of wings was heard and the angel’s eyes widened in shock.

 

     “Oh he’s telling the truth. He’s just not telling you everything.” Sam whirled around to find Gabriel, cookies and cream Hershey’s bar in hand, staring at them. The two met each other’s gazes and Sam almost smiled at him. It was more like a slight upward quirk of his lips.

 

     “How--? Never mind.” Sam turned back to Nandriel.

 

     “Gabriel?” the angel asked, stupefied. “But, you're dead. Lucifer, he--”

 

     “It’ll take more than a stab wound to kill me. Now," he took a bite out of the chocolate, "What else is happening up top?” Nandriel cast his head down as much as he could in his current position.

 

     “I… I can’t say.” 

 

     “Really?" He brandished his archangel blade threateningly. "Tell me this: What do you have left to lose? You lost your girlfriend, your home, your honor. Our brothers and sisters will have caught wind of this by now and if not now, soon. There’s nothing waiting for you if you get out of here. Why keep secrets?”

 

     With a gulp, Nandriel answered, “I… I… I don’t know much, to be honest. All I know is that the angels are…” Gabriel pressed the blade against the angel’s neck. The cold metal drawing a drop of grace.

 

     ”Are?” the archangel asked impatiently.

 

     “Afraid,” he answered nervously before dropping the timid act, letting his true feelings be known. “… And angry. Because of Dean Winchester and his good for nothing bro--” Gabriel cut him off with a cut across his good arm. A pained wail escaped him. Sam’s eyes widened.

 

     “Gabe! Calm down!” 

 

     “Don’t you call Sam good for nothing you sad excuse of an--”

 

     “Gabriel! Just--” Sam walked up from behind and placed a hand over the one holding Gabriel’s blade. The trickster looked back and growled, eventually dropping his hand and sighing. That’s when Nandriel laughed.

 

     “You think anger management is the worst of your problems?" He laughed maniacally. "The Darkness is free! It’s only a matter of time. The end is nigh! And if it wasn’t for you screwups then we would be--” He never got to finish that sentence as Gabriel snapped his fingers and he exploded in a flash of bright blue light. Sam just looked from Gabriel to the empty chair to Gabriel and back again. He wasn’t even going to say it.

 

     Letting out a deep breath, he stated, “He was annoying me." He clapped his hands together. "So, what'd I miss?” Sam just rolled his eyes with a smile.

 

 

Closing A/N: Wow. Um… Filler not filler chapter? Didn’t mean for… anything past the first part to happen, but, oh well… Back to the main plot next chapter! And let me just say that Castiel as a total bamf, Sam and his powers, and Dean and Castiel’s mind link are more important than you think. Aaaaand, the next chapter is in progress! So, thoughts?


	4. The Dream and the Devil

Chapter Four: The Dream and the Devil

 

A/N: This is what I intended for chapter 3 to be. Hopefully, it’ll turn out how I wanted it to. Lucifer gets his debut this chapter and there’s glimpses of other characters. Again, apologies for the onslaught of OOCness you’re about to receive and for taking forever to write and post. The second half takes place during episode 10. Read and enjoy. Disclaim: Eric Kripke and all the wonderful people who he works with own SPN. I’m just an obsessed author who’s dying for it to be Thursday again.

 

 

    Angels didn’t sleep. Angels didn’t dream. Angels definitely didn’t communicate through dreams to each other. Gabriel knew that they didn’t. However, when he opened his eyes, he knew he wasn’t awake. Heck if he knows how he knows, but he does. He found himself lying on the ground, which was scorching hot, but freezing cold at the same time. Angels didn't really feel temperatures either. He sat up slowly, looking around. There were bars on all sides of the room, no, **cage** , barely visible in the dark. There was only one cage he could possibly be in right now.

 

    “Well isn’t this nice.” Gabriel stood up and turned around. His head swung back and forth before he looked up. An oh so familiar face flew down with a flutter of six pure white wings, the shine of the feathers almost blinding. He did a few tricks before landing a few feet away from the trickster. It was dark, but a flash of lightning illuminated his face for a moment. There, with his snarky, whiny attitude, stood Lucifer. “Long time no see, brother.” He clapped his hands together and it was like flipping a light switch. They could clearly see each other. He flashed him a shit eating grin. Gabriel almost pouted.

 

    “Not even an “I’m sorry I killed you. You were being too much of a bratty little brother and interfering?” You hurt my feelings, Luci,” Gabriel told him, trying to keep the mood light. The devil frowned at him.

 

    “You know I hate that nickname--”

 

    “And you know that I don’t care,” Gabriel interrupted. He continued looking around the Cage. “So, this is where Dad locked you up after he created the humans. Not too bad of a setup.” There was a molten throne of sorts up against one side of the bars and a hammock hanging from the ceiling that seemed miles away. Disappearing objects were visible fleetingly before being replaced by something else. He could make out a few things his brother had owned Heaven and some possessions of his vessel, Nick. Gabriel’s gaze, however, was drawn to the never ending ceiling. Lucifer followed his eyes.

 

    “Yeah. The one thing Dad knew I’d miss most, apart from, you know… Freedom and being his favorite… was flying. So, he made sure I still had plenty of room to stretch my wings." He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Soooo thoughtful.”

 

    “Would you rather be stuck in this cage without all the flying room?" Gabriel sighed at Lucifer's bitterness. "He cares about you, big brother. He misses you--”

 

    “Don’t tell me how he feels! If he cared, then he wouldn’t have locked me away for loving him more than his stupid creations!” The Cage shook, almost throwing both of them off their feet. Gabriel gave him an unimpressed look.

 

    “You done? Or are you gonna throw a little temper tantrum and wake us both up? It-- How is this even possible?” Lucifer gave him a look.

 

    “Uh, hello? Most powerful archangel? The devil, Satan himself. How is this not possible?”

 

    “The Cage is supposed to keep you from interfering outside of here. You shouldn’t be able to reach out to me.”

 

    “Oh, I have my ways, little brother.”

 

    “Angels don’t dream. We don’t sleep. None of this makes any sense. I know I’m not actually here. I’d be able to tell if I was.” Lucifer almost smiled and began to pace a bit. Activate big brother mode.

 

    “Okay, think of it this way. It’s like how little Castiel communicates with Dean in his dreams. You’re asleep. That’s at least partially true. Your vessel is mimicking it, but it’s more like you're in a daze, a trance, right now. Gave me the perfect opportunity to talk with you.” Lucifer spread his wings and took flight. Gabriel spread his beautiful golden wings, all three pairs, stretched them, and took off as well. The two climbed higher and higher, the Cage’s ceiling never seeming to grow closer, only farther. They flew side by side, doing tricks, chasing each other, enjoying the company. It almost felt like old times. They let their grace mingle, sharing a few thoughts and feelings that way. Doing that always relaxed the trickster. It made him a feel like a sap. They stopped after a while, hovering in midair, wings flapping ever so often. “I’ll admit it: I have missed you, brother. I loved Michael, and we all know how we felt about Raphael. You, you were always the baby of the family. It wasn’t the same when you left…”

 

    “Don’t go soft on me now, Luci.” the trickster said, not knowing what else to. “I’m here now. You wanted me here, didn’t you? What did you wanna tell me?” Lucifer, though he knew he was manipulating his baby brother, did truly care about him. He’d always held a soft spot for Gabriel, and that hadn’t changed. The youngest had always been the one he could confide in, the one he felt the most at ease with, who he could relate to. He flew closer to his younger brother until they were a few inches apart. They looked each other in the eyes, dark red meeting honey golden brown. Lucifer reached out and wrapped his arms around him. Gabriel stiffened, shocked, before gladly returning the embrace. It felt a bit like deja vu. Again, he felt like a sap. If the family could only temporarily be together again, he’d take that over not being together at all. He felt like he could cry, but he wouldn’t.

 

    “I want to see you,” he said in a serious voice after letting go. Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

 

    “Woah now, big brother. You might be interested in the whole incest thing, but I for one certainly am not. It could be interesting to try though…” Lucifer rolled his eyes.

 

    “You never did know how to be serious when it counted. I meant see you in person, you idiot.”

 

    “Well, neither did you.” Lucifer just stared. Gabriel’s smile faded.

 

    “Like, in the actual cage? Lucifer, you know I can’t--”

 

    “Yes, you can. The Winchesters have found a way to open the Cage. They just need the witch with the Book of the Damned. What was her name? Raven… Racquel… Rachael…”

 

    “Rowena…” Gabriel threw in.

 

    Clapping his hands together, he claimed, “She’s the one! They just need to find her and get her to cooperate. Oh well. Witches, honestly… Please, brother. Just one more time before our auntie tries to end this world.” Gabriel knew that he shouldn’t. Lucifer could be a tricky bastard. But…

 

    “Alright. But you have to promise me something.”

 

    “And what would that be?”

 

    “No harm comes to Sam if he comes with.” Lucifer smirked.

 

    “Ooooo. The plot thickens,” the devil joked. “Why Sam? Why not Dean or Castiel? Wait! I know! I know! Pick me!” He had his hand raised, waving it madly and sitting cross legged on thin air like a student in a classroom. Gabriel scowled at him.

 

    “Haha. Very funny, brother.” His cheeks had a slightly pink tinge to them.

 

    “So I was right. Why else would you be blushing? Don’t worry," he told him with a sadistic smile. "I keep my promises. I won’t harm a hair on his head.” He crossed his heart to seal the deal. “Well, Sam’ll be here right about…" He checked invisible wrist watch. "Now, so I'll see you in Hell.” As his expression became serious once more, he pressed a soft kiss to Gabriel’s head and brushed his cheek with the tips of one of his wings. “I love you, Gabriel.”

 

    “I love you too, Lucifer,” he answered sincerely as the dream began fading, returning the gesture. He could feel his movements becoming lethargic and sluggish. He felt his wings stop flapping, and he was falling, falling, falling… Lucifer’s smiling face was the last thing he saw before darkness took over his vision. He never felt the impact as his body the plummeted towards the ground.

 

XxX

 

    Sam had made his way to the kitchen, trying to sort out what Nandriel had told him. A group of rogue angels had tried to kill Dean and him. Castiel, of course, stopped them. Apparently, there were more where they came from. However, there were also angels who were on their side. That made everything even more complicated. Was there a war going on in Heaven again? Who led each side? What was God doing about it? Sam made himself a cup of coffee, black as the eyes of a demon, and took a sip. He heard a thump from a few rooms away and put the cup down on the table. He walked out of the kitchen and looked in each room. He walked into the living room and saw Gabriel, tossing and turning, in midair, wings out and fluttering madly.

 

    “Brother…” he mumbled. His face contorted in confusion and then sadness. A minute later, he smiled and made a content sound. His wings slowed down their pace, making him veer towards and run into the wall. Sam held back a chuckle before his face become a mask of worry. Brother? What was he dreaming about? Angels didn’t sleep or dream, right? He didn’t know whether to stay and watch, whether it was to make sure he wouldn’t fall or just to sit back, leave him in peace, or wake him up. He decided just to watch. It was rare that Sam could see the archangel like this, not hiding behind a facade or pretending to be someone he wasn't. It was… he didn’t know how to describe it.

 

    “Gabriel…” Sam whispered, still watching him. The archangel mumbled something incoherent in response. His eyes were still closed though.

 

    “No harm comes to Sam…” he whispered. No harm comes to him? What the heck was he dreaming about exactly? Before he could try and determine that answer, the archangel’s wings stilled and Gabriel was falling. Without thinking, Sam rushed forward and caught him, careful not to disturb his wings. Gabriel mumbled and his eyes slid slowly open.

 

    “Sam?” He asked groggily. His amber eyes seemed unfocused and confused before they widened and he whipped his head around, not exactly sure where he was.

 

    “Hey, slow down. We're in the bunker. You were… sleeping, I guess,” Sam told him quietly. The trickster shook his head.

 

    “It was more like a trance of sorts. My vessel was mimicking sleep. I had the weirdest dream…”

 

    “Hookers or pagans?” Sam asked lightheartedly. Gabriel chuckled softly and gracefully landed on his feet.

 

    “That’s for me to know and you to find out Samoose,” the archangel said, not eager to reveal the true subject of his sort of dream as he went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Lucifer wanted to see him, in person, in the Cage. How in Chuck’s name was he supposed to get in there? Lucifer had mentioned Sam’s plan. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but how did Lucifer even know about that? How did he even reach out to him in the first place? Something just wasn’t right, and he had a bad feeling about this.

 

XxX

 

    Dean stood a few feet away, expression a mix of amusement, awe, and concern while Rowena and Crowley were cowering under Gabriel’s deadly gaze, eyes faintly glowing electric blue and his wings spread and angrily flapping about. He held his archangel blade in one hand and Rowena’s throat in the other, careful not to crush the witch catcher or her windpipe… yet. “Where is he?!” He bellowed with rage. “Where’s Sam you spineless sack of meat?!” Crowley slowly backed away from his mother and the all powerful being, readying himself for a quick escape should things go downhill. Dean showed the tip of an angel blade up his sleeve at Crowley with a glare. The King of Hell stood his ground reluctantly.

 

    “I-In the C-C-Cage!” she screamed in a strangled voice. Gabriel reached out with his grace into the Cage. He could feel his brother and the Winchester’s presences within and he dropped the witch unceremoniously on the ground. Rowena dusted herself off and gingerly touched her reddened neck. Crowley inspected it for any damage before healing it with a thought, not looking her way as he did so. They turned their attention back to the Cage, which Gabriel was marching towards with a purpose.

 

    “Gabriel! Hold on a second! You're not just gonna march in there without a plan, are you?” Dean yelled. Gabriel’s eyes turned towards him, softening a bit.

 

    “Isn’t this what you would do?” Gabriel retorted, continuing to walk away. Before Dean could respond, a demon had hurried into the room looking disheveled.

 

    “I’m sorry, My Lord. I tried to--” Before he could finish, Castiel, looking worse for wear, stomped into view.

 

    “Cas?” Dean asked. Gabriel stopped and turned around.

 

    “Oh good. The angel’s here,” Crowley said.

 

    “What’s happening?” Dean questioned, ignoring him.

 

    “Amara. She’s--” The angel seemed out of breath, as he tried to get out a full sentence. “She’s alive. She…” He looked at Dean defeated. His lover braced himself for bad news. “Sent this message.” Castiel pulled the sides of his shirt apart, revealing letters burned into his chest. The skin was angry, raw, and red.

 

    “ _I am coming,_ ” Crowley read. “Is that a threat?” Castiel gave the Demon King a disbelieving look.

 

    “Or a promise?” Dean finished.

 

    “I’m not gonna wait around to find out. My auntie is bad news and Sam needs us! He’s the priority right now, not the Darkness. And if I know Lucifer, his patience will have worn thin by now.”

 

    “Brother, wait.” As soon as the seraph spoke, the five could hear a commotion coming from the Cage.

 

    “Sam?!” Dean called out.

 

    With renewed purpose, the two angels and Dean swiftly headed for the Cage to the aid of Sam, Gabriel masking his presence from everyone and seemingly disappearing on the spot. Dean looked bewildered while Castiel looked troubled. ‘ _He’s masking his presence so as not to alert Lucifer or Sam,_ ’ he thought to Dean. The hunter nodded in acknowledgement.

 

    “Don't!” Crowley warned, not wanting to find out what the Devil would do to them if he escaped. The three ignored him, fully intent on making Lucifer pay if he’d laid a finger on Sam.

 

XxX  
Earlier…

 

    Sam didn’t know what to think. Lucifer had been sending these visions, not God. Lucifer had argued a convincing case about him not being how he used to. Lucifer had lured him into the Cage. And now, here he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could either say yes and probably start the next Apocalypse to add to the Darkness threat, or say no and spend whatever was left of his crazy life in the Cage with the devil and a demented archangel. It wasn’t hard to determine the lesser of the two evils, but he’d hear Lucifer out a bit more.

 

    “Do you follow me?” Lucifer asked Sam.

 

    “What do you want me to say?”

 

    “A little word that starts in y, ends in e-s.” Sam turned his head away, staying silent. “Okay, you don’t like me." He sighed. "I get it. I get it. Sometimes, I don't like me either, but Gabriel and Raphael are dead--” Sam snorted internally at that statement. “God went out for a pack of smokes and never came back. Michael? Well, let’s just say prison life hasn’t really agreed with Michael. These days he’s usually sitting in a corner singing show tunes… touching himself.”

 

    Sam stared blankly ahead and responded, “So, you're it.”

 

    “Heh! I'm it!" He grinned. "Hey, I-I'm not the good guy. We both know I'm not, but, uh, the Darkness? She’s the end of everything.” Lucifer crouched down in front of Sam and continued in a whisper. “But I can beat her. We can beat her. You and me, together. So c’mon, Sam. Make the right choice. The big sacrifice one more time, man. _Sam_. It’s time to save the world, man.” Sam averted his eyes and looked around the expanse of the Cage. In that moment, he made his choice. He looked Satan in the eye and muttered his answer.

 

    “No… No.” Lucifer’s calm demeanor changed and the smile fell from his face.

 

    “What do you mean, no?!” Satan demanded to know, outraged that Sam would defy him.

 

    “You heard me,” Sam said undeterred.

 

    “Now Sam, I gotta tell ya, this is selfish man. Everything that--”

 

    “You are done. It’s over!” Lucifer had a pleading look his face. Sam stood up suddenly, anger giving him a surge of confidence. “You know what, you talk a good game. You do. Hell," he smirked, "You almost had me sold a few times, but then I thought, ‘What if you're right? What if you’re tellin’ the truth? What if you can beat her?'”

 

    “I! CAN!” Lucifer yelled at him in frustration.

 

    “Even though last time it took you plus three other archangels! Oh yeah, and capital G, God.”

 

    “Oh, okay. What, you mean the dead weight?”

 

    “Well, let's say you gank her. Then what?”

 

    “Move to LA. Solve crimes?” he stated as if the answer was obvious.

 

    “Wrong,” the younger Winchester declared. “Then you go about starting the Apocalypse, again. ‘Cuz you're an old dog and that’s your old trick.” Lucifer points an accusing finger at his true vessel, speaking in an almost hurt voice.

 

    “First off, you don’t know that." Sam gave him a bitchface. "Second, even if I did, that’s better than what she has planned!”

 

    “Is it?” Sam shot right back. “Really? ‘Cuz this is what I think: I think whoever wins, you or the Darkness, everyone else loses. So, no. My answer is **no**. This isn’t because of Dean, or the past. This is about me, having faith in my friends, having faith in my family. We will find a way. I’m ready to die, and I'm ready to watch people I love die, but I'm not ready to be your bitch.”

 

    Lucifer clicks his tongue with a pained smile and whispers, “Okay. Plan B,” before decking Sam in the jaw, the impact reverberating through Hell and drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

 

XxX

 

    “Hey, assbutt!” Dean shouted through the Cage. Lucifer turned and grinned.

 

    “Dean! Uh, the other one.” He snaps his fingers and traps them both in the Cage, inadvertently trapping Gabriel with them as well. “Welcome to the party,” he rumbled in a low voice. Castiel, Sam, and Dean radiated panic and uncertainty. Gabriel saw Sam spitting out blood, attention going to Lucifer. “Scared?” He asked them.

 

    “Not even a little,” Dean retorted as Castiel pulled out his angel blade.

 

    “Uh uh uh uh,” Lucifer quipped. “Moments like this, it’s all about ambiance.” He snaps his fingers and music starts playing.

 

_Heaven_   
_Must be missin’ an angel_   
_Missin’ one angel, child_   
_‘Cause you're here with me right now_

 

    “I can beat the Darkness,” Lucifer hissed in Castiel’s ear as he lunged with the angel blade. “Me, only me.”

 

    “And you complain about me not taking things seriously when it counts,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. He saw Castiel lunge at Lucifer and be caught, and that’s when he made his move. He snapped his fingers and it was like time stood still. Well, it did. Lucifer froze before waving a hand in front of the seraph’s face. He then poked him before doing the same to Dean. His head was on a swivel before he heard the snap of fingers and saw his baby brother.

 

    “Gabriel! I knew you’d come.” The trickster didn’t look as overjoyed as Lucifer.

 

    “You promised, brother. You promised that you wouldn’t hurt him!” Gabriel shouted, upset and heartbroken at seeing his love in any kind of pain.

 

    “Ah ah ah. I promised not to hurt him if he came here _with you_. He came here with a witch and her Demon King son, so it didn’t count.” He looked around at the three frozen. “Nice job with that one, by the way.”

 

    “You said you wanted to see me, in person, in the Cage." He spread his arms out invitingly. "Well, here I am--Oof!” he exclaimed as Lucifer crushed him in an embrace. Gabriel was genuinely surprised at the action. He wrapped his arms around the midsection of his older brother and let their graces mingle. He felt anxiety, anger, and playfulness and that something that just screamed Lucifer. He instantly relaxed and snuggled into him, though he was still wary of the situation. “Luci…” He let go after a minute and and crossed his arms again, though he seemed to lighten up considerably.

 

    “I’m trying to help. You know that I'm powerful and so do they. I can beat her with the right weapon and some time.” Gabriel scoffed and conjured up a Snickers ice cream bar, taking a bite, swallowing, and shaking his head.

 

    “So I guess you didn’t need me, Raphael, Michael, and Dad last time? You did it all by yourself, right? Lucifer, I don’t doubt your abilities. Heck, I've always had too much confidence in them, actually. Face the facts. Dad couldn’t beat her on his own. He’s God! If He can’t beat her alone, what makes you think you can?”

 

    “But I'm not alone,” he whispered, cupping Gabriel’s face in his hands. “I have you… and those Winchesters with their pet angel. Then there’s Crowley and Rowena. We’ll be fine.”

 

    “I wish I had your confidence, brother.” The younger archangel pulled away surveyed his surroundings. “You still hurt Sam,” he growled. Lucifer shrugged with a not guilty look.

 

    “Like I said, I wouldn’t--”

 

    “Cut the crap, Lucifer. Were you ever intending to actually keep that promise?” Lucifer scowled and pulled his shirt away from where his heart was. Still there, just like in the dream, was the glowing red X that looked like it’d been carved into his skin by gnarled fingernails, or a set of claws that seriously needed to be filed.

 

    “Always,” he hissed, forked tongue making a brief appearance.

 

     “Just making sure…" He sighed, uncertainty seeping into his expression. "What’re you planning? Kill Castiel again and--”

 

    “That’s his name!" he joked. "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on it. He’ll live. I need him.”

 

    “Why?” the golden winged archangel asked, eyebrow raised.

 

    Lucifer grinned evilly and responded, “I don’t wanna ruin the surprise.” Gabriel huffed.

 

    “Fine, be that way, you stubborn--” He uttered several insults in Enochian, and Lucifer’s face contorted, not quite angry and not quite lighthearted.

 

    “That the best you can do? Honestly, I'm not pasty, or whiny… Am I really that childish?”

 

    “You can be.”

 

    “I _am_ enjoying this talk, Gabriel, it’s just that there are people who weren’t frozen when you did that little trick. Dad, for example. And, oh, you know, Aunt Amara, so…” Gabriel reluctantly snapped his fingers and time resumed where it left off. Dean collapsed next to his brother.

 

    “Hey,” he muttered, checking on him.

 

    “They’re a couple of apes,” Lucifer continued to tell Castiel, as if his conversation with Gabriel hadn’t happened. “Who’re these two?”

 

_Your love is heavenly, baby_   
_Heavenly to me, baby_

 

    “You know I'm right, Castiel. You know it.” The seraph just aimed another punch at him. Lucifer easily caught it without a thought. “You wanna play that way?” His punch easily caught the angel in the jaw.

 

_Your kiss_

 

    “We can’t win,” Sam gasped.

 

    “We don’t have to win,” Dean told him. “We’ve just got to last a few minutes.” As he said that, Lucifer floored Castiel with a particularly hard strike, making Dean gulp. Easier said than done…

 

_Filled with tenderness_   
_I want all--_

 

    The younger archangel hurried over to Sam, who could now see him, after watching the action unfold before him. The hunter had a shocked and frightened look in his eyes. “Gabe! What are you doing here?!” he asked before coughing up more blood.

 

    “I could ask you the same thing, Sammich.” He planted a quick kiss on Sam’s clammy forehead before helping him and Dean up. Gabriel then went to check on Castiel. Together, the two hunters advanced on Lucifer. The brothers went back and forth, landing punch after punch, not that they really had an effect. They were stalling for time. Rowena had better have her shit together in the next minute or so. Sam held the Devil from behind, hoping Dean could wail on him some more. Satan seemed amused if not a bit annoyed.

 

    “You hit like a human,” he grunted, kicking Dean away and breaking out of Sam’s grasp with a headbutt and a few swings. Castiel tried to rally and aid his friends, only to be knocked away, swatted like a fly. Sam tried to capitalize on the distraction before receiving the same treatment, as did Dean. The older brother cried out and choked as Lucifer held him against the bars of the Cage by his throat. “Alright, Sam. I’m gonna make this real easy for ya. You say the magic word… or your brother dies, and we both know you won’t let that happen.”

 

    “Lucifer, stop!” Gabriel pleaded, kneeling next to Sam, who was laying in his arms. “If you’re going to kill anyone, kill me, but let Dean go.”

 

    “Not this time. I won’t sacrifice you, not again, not because of my selfishness. Anyone but you, brother. I won’t watch the light fade from your eyes again because of my doing. I lo--” Before he could finish his statement, Castiel lunged at him, seeing Dean in trouble and acting on instinct. The hunter crashed to the ground, gulping in breaths of air and sticking by his brother’s side while his lover and Lucifer tussled a few feet away. Blood cascading down his face and angel blade pinned under Lucifer’s foot, the seraph was out of options. He maintained his rebellious gaze nonetheless.

 

    Gabriel healed Sam’s internal bleeding before turning to Lucifer, who looked him in the eye and mouthed two words. The devil then looked back at Castiel and asked him if he had any last words before smiling. Gabriel gasped, angelic hearing allowing him to hear what had just been said. “No!” he screamed before there was a blinding flash of white light and the four of them were thrown out of the Cage, landing on the hard pavement path. Gingerly, they picked themselves up and trudged back towards their temporary allies. Gabriel was oddly silent, casting sideways glances at Castiel.

 

    “You’re welcome,” Rowena quipped at the battered and bruised group. “Anyone?”

 

    “Bite me,” Gabriel and Dean said in unison.

 

    “I can make her do that,” Crowley interjected.

 

    “So, what now?” Sam asked.

 

    “About the Darkness? No clue.”

 

    “We’ll figure it out,” Dean mumbled.

 

    “Or die screaming,” Rowena interrupted.

 

    “That can be arranged for you,” the trickster snarled, making Rowena flinch away. “If you hadn’t opened the Cage, none of this shit would’ve happened! And you, you son of a bitch--”

 

    “Hey! I’m right here, you know,” Rowena exclaimed, hurt and trepidation easily heard in her voice.

 

    “You went along with this. You put that blasphemous thing around her neck and forced her to do this. I oughtta smite you both!” Sam laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Gabriel backed down with a bright blue flash of his eyes.

 

    Crowley, going on like he wasn’t just threatened by one of the universe’s most powerful creatures, said, “This has been a horrible train wreck, so we're done. Team-up, over.”

 

    “What about her?” Sam motioned to the redheaded witch.

 

    “She stays. The rest of you lot, get the Hell out of Hell.”

 

    “Gladly,” Gabriel said with a cold, sarcastic smirk. The three placed their hands on his arm and they disappeared in a flap of wings. They reappeared in front of the building door that led them to Hell, a few feet away from the Impala.

 

    “You alright?” Dean questioned, concerned for his boyfriend, who had a distant, overwhelmed look on his face. Castiel looked to him.

 

    “I think so… I will be,” he responded after a moment.

 

    “Want me to give you a lift?”

 

    “No, you three go on ahead. I'll catch up.”

 

    “… Okay.” Dean planted a soft kiss on his cheek, but something felt off about it. He chalked it up to them barely escaping the Cage with their lives just a few minutes ago. “Be safe, man.” Sam looked to Castiel and saluted farewell before getting in on the passenger’s side, to which the angel nodded. Gabriel hugged the angel briefly before climbing into the backseat.

 

    “Is he alright?” Sam asked, looking back at their angel friend.

 

    “Tough day.”

 

    “Yeah, tell me about it.”

 

    “You good?” Dean asked. Sam sighed, smashing his slim hopes of reassurance.

 

    “I don’t know. I mean, what if Lucifer was telling the truth? You know, what if he’s--”

 

    “No, dude. Darkness is bad. Her and the devil?" He shook his head. "That’s a nightmare.” The two looked away from each other as Dean started the engine. “You good, Gabriel?” The archangel looked deflated and hopeless, as if someone had stolen something important to him that he couldn’t live without and threatened to never give it back. In a way, that was true. Weary green eyes met watery honey golden brown ones. That’s all the answer he got. Back in Hell, Rowena lay with her neck twisted more than ninety degrees, eyes empty and soulless, now a corpse, while Crowley was slumped against the wall, fear evident in his dark eyes as Castiel-- Lucifer-- turned his gaze on him. In his new vessel, the archangel spoke.

 

    After a sigh, he stated, “Okay…" sitting down at a nearby table, "Let’s chat.”

 

 

Closing A/N: Well, that didn’t turn out how I wanted it too. As I've said in a different fic, my high speed, has all my info on it tablet won’t hold a charge, so I'm using my slow, backup one. Yes, I have a backup. Don’t judge. Then, that one got a virus on it and has ceased to function. This is being finished on a laptop I’m borrowing. Also, apologies for the huge time gap, but I'll be filling that in later because of Gabriel and other plot reasons… and because I need to rewatch some episodes. This might be edited later because of minor plot details. Share your thoughts if you wish and I'll see y’all next chapter! :)


	5. You Can See Them?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once, Dean is the reasonable brother in this situation. Mostly...

Chapter Five: You Can See Them?

 

A/N: Going back in time a bit here. Takes place after Gabriel has the dream and talks with Sam if there’s any confusion. So, chronologically, the chapters go 2, 1, 3, the dream part of 4, 5, the second half of 4… probably… Don’t ask why I broke up the story like this because I don’t even know, but this might become a thing.

 

 

    “They’re beautiful you know,” Sam told the trickster while they were sipping their coffee. He cocked an eyebrow at the human. “Your wings, I mean.” At that statement, Gabriel choked on his too sugary, overly creamy coffee, coughing and sputtering.

 

    “What are you talking about? I… You can see them?” he asked incredulously. Sam nodded, confused at the reaction.

 

    “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

 

    Gabriel shook his head and stood, putting his mug down a little more forceful than necessary, cracking it and leaving a dent in the table. He grabbed at his hair and his eyes were blown wide with panic. Dean and Castiel he could understand. Hell, who couldn’t see the sparks flying between them whenever they were anywhere near each other? The two had known each other for years. They had each other’s backs, were like family, knew each other better than they knew themselves. Him and Sam?! Obviously, they were close, closer than he thought they were, but soulmates? No. The mystery spot? Faking his death multiple times? Anything ringing a bell? He couldn’t deal with this, not with everything going on. He did love Sam, but Sam didn’t love him back. They were friends and nothing more. At least, that was the message he’d been receiving since he’d been back. Well, he could throw his original plan to distract Sam from Lucifer out the window.

 

    “Gabriel? Hey, what’s wrong?” The hunter saw the trickster’s distress, golden wings fluttering frantically in response. Sam stood and tried to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and ended up brushing against one of Gabriel’s larger wings. Sam felt a shockwave run through his body and to his very core. He could feel a tingling sensation in his soul. The archangel’s pupils dilated and he shut his eyes as a shudder went through his body. He let out a soft gasp at the contact.

 

    “Sam,” he moaned. Sam went to touch his wings again, curious and intrigued, before Gabriel opened his eyes and let out a high pitched, “Don’t!” The hand froze and then retracted.

 

    He held up his hands in surrender and asked, “I don’t understand. What’s so bad about me being able to see and touch your wings?” Gabriel averted his eyes.

 

    Lowly, he whispered, “It means something that neither of us are prepared for…”

 

    “Gabe, tell me what it means. Please. I won’t break or run or whatever you're afraid of. I can handle it.” Gabriel sighed and shook his head.

 

    “You're sure you wanna know? Fine. Just like humans, angels have their versions of soulmates, usually another angel. Angels are one of the only creatures, other than a few high ranking demons and Dad in my experience, who can touch another angel’s wings. It’s supposed to be really intimate and romantic, apparently, if another creature can touch and see them. Angels find their soulmates when that certain someone can touch the angel’s grace with their own, or, in a human’s case, with their soul…” An uncomfortable silence fell upon the kitchen. Honey golden brown eyes met hazel ones. “… You’re my soulmate, Sam.”

 

    Sam took a steadying breath, trying to keep himself calm. He tried to process the information. Angels had soulmates, and he was Gabriel’s?! He took another deep breath before he busted out into a fit of hysterical laughter. He was clutching his stomach and almost wheezing as he let the statement sink in. Soulmates? With Gabriel? Puh-lease. “Y-You have got t-to b-be kidding m-me! You expect me… to believe th-that we--you and me, hunter and archangel, human and celestial being--are s-soulmates?!” He had to compose himself before he spoke again, the occasional chuckle slipping out. “I hate to tell you, but April Fools Day? You kinda missed it.” Gabriel stared blankly at him for a moment before his face went from disbelieving to hurt to furious in 3.5 seconds. He was immediately in the taller man’s face, towering over him in midair with his massive golden wings, form glowing around the edges with power, eyes starting to turn bright blue.

 

    “You think I would joke about something as serious and sacred as this? You think I'm all fun and games? You can’t take the trick out of the trickster, and all that? Well, let me tell you something, Sam, you arrogant prick,” the archangel snarled. “If we weren’t soulmates, would I be able to do this?” He forcefully shoved his hand right through Sam’s stomach and reached for his soul. Sam instantly panicked, bracing himself for the pain and feeling… Nothing? No, it wasn’t nothing. It felt warm, healing, nice, safe, like… “Like love, Sam,” Gabriel whispered. Sam gawked in disbelief.

 

    “I don’t understand. How?” Gabriel sighed.

 

    “Fine. What about… this?” Gabriel snapped his fingers and his entire body became illuminated in blinding white light. It faded some, revealing Gabriel decked out in pristine battle armor that flickered to your stereotypical white robes and back. His form continued glowing, angel blade at his hip and wings so shiny that Sam could see his reflection in them. He gasped and his eyes widened in awe.

 

    “Your true form!” Sam realized.

 

    “A version of it. See? Now you're catching on, Sam.” His voice echoed a bit and the hazel eyed hunter was mesmerized. As soon as he finished speaking, every glass and object that could shatter within the kitchen shattered, shards littering the floor and countertops.

 

    “And your voice… Gabriel,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know--”

 

    “It’s alright, Sam. I’d probably laugh too. I understand.” The light began to fade until Gabriel looked back to normal in his jeans, button up, jacket, and shoes. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt for a second. Is the thought of being my soulmate really that bad?” Sam blushed and lowered his head. Since they were having this conversation…

 

    “Since we're leaving everything out in the open, I thought you should know…” He tried to find the right words.

 

    “Know what, Samoose?”

 

    “That… I've kinda had a crush on you for a while now. Part of me admired you after the whole time loop thing. Call me crazy, but part of me thought you were being heroic. You saw the big picture, the point of all the mess we’d gotten in. You were right too. Dean is my weakness and it has been the death of me, multiple times actually.”

 

    “Multiple times? As in you’ve died multiple times?” Sam scratched the back of his head.

 

    “I keep forgetting how many years it’s been since then. Here.” He leaned down and bended his head forward. Gabriel touched two fingers to his forehead and they both gasped in pain as memories were exchanged. Sam’s time in the Cage, the Leviathans and Castiel, Demon Dean and the Mark of Cain, Abbadon, Balthazar, Michael, Zackariah, Sam losing his mind, killing Death, the war with Metatron and Castiel’s armies of angels, the year he took off hunting, and every moment that kept Sam up at night or plagued his thoughts. There were tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and he tried his best to hold them back.

 

    “I can’t believe that you’ve been through so much. And you're still here,” he said with a sad smile. “Also, me? Heroic? Pfft. _Hells_ no. It took **Dean** to get me to stop running. No offense, but your brother? He’s not the first person to give me the talk about being a coward and needing to resolve my issues. Plus, he’s human. Do you know how many angels and Pagans have tried to get me to see reason?” The hunter laughed softly at that. “And you weren’t the only one giving someone those googoo eyed, longing stares,” Gabriel whispered with a wink.

 

    “Was it in TV Land?” When he got a nod, Sam smirked and started picking up shards of china from the floor.

 

    “You know, I could just use my grace and--”

 

    “No, it’s fine. Really.” The trickster sighed and bent down to help him. Their hands would brush occasionally and cause both of them to smile. They continued talking, filling in the blanks the last seven-ish years had left, about the different things Gabriel saw through Sam’s memories.

 

    “And you came back soulless?!” He exclaimed, interrupting Sam yet again.

 

    “Yeah. A whole year of just an… Emotionless, uncaring, cold version of me. Cas was trying to help.”

 

    “I oughtta smite the three of you for everything that’s happened since I’ve been gone,” the shorter figure griped as he healed another cut on Sam’s hand from the shards. “So… You’re taking this all surprisingly well…”

 

    “It’s about the happiest news I could get, unless you have a solution to this whole Darkness problem?” Gabriel gave him a look. “I’m just kidding. Really, I'm, heh, I'm thrilled. I mean, the guy I've never stopped thinking about is my legit soulmate… It’s really the shock that’s making me not over think things.”

 

    “If I know you, Sam, you’re always over thinking things. You're just choosing not to show it. But, if I, say, do this,” he says, backing Sam up against the table and making him lean back, “Then you’re showing it.” It was true. The hazel eyed hunter was blushing, looking unsure of what to do or say. His hands shook as they braced him against the table. “What are you so worried about, Samoose?” Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked Gabriel in the eyes. There was a hint of concern and a whole lot of love staring back at him in those honey golden orbs. Tentatively, he put a hand to the back of Gabriel’s head. The archangel stroked his cheek and leaned forward.

 

    “Nothing anymore,” Sam whispered as their lips met and his soul sang in delight. For all he knew, it was. He felt Gabriel’s grace flow into him and electricity rushed through his veins. He heard a whimper and he wasn’t sure who’d made the sound. One thing he was sure about was who had cleared their throat and who just screamed “What the Hell is going on?!” The two broke apart to see Castiel, with a subtle smile gracing his lips and Dean, who was a bit red in the face from Chuck knows what.

 

    “Morning Dean-o, Cassie. Have a good night’s sleep?” Sam just blushed and turned away. Gabriel huffed and snapped his fingers when Castiel looked around the room and gave him an annoyed glance. “Happy now?” the trickster asked the angel, who shrugged and eyed him suspiciously. Dean noticed this and watched the seraph do that adorable little head tilt of his. Castiel reached out to Gabriel’s grace with his own and recoiled in shock. He looked from the archangel to Sam and back.

 

    “You’re… You’re soulmates?! How?” Dean looked about ready to jump off a cliff at that statement.

 

    “Woah woah, wait a minute. Did-- Did you--? Soul--? What?! No! No no, absolutely not! I don’t think so!”

 

    “You can’t just forbid it, Dean. They’re soulmates. They didn’t get a choice in the matter either.” The hunter glared at him.

 

    “And you know that they’re… that… because?”

 

    “Can you see them?” Gabriel asked, flexing his wings before wrapping them around Sam. Dean seemed confused before squinting and staring at Gabriel.

 

    “Holy shit. They’re huge. Sammy, you can--? What are they?”

 

    “My wings, genius. What else would they be?”

 

    “Wait. Cas, let me see yours,” Sam said. The seraph sheepishly looked down and away.

 

    “I’d rather not, actually,” he said quietly. Dean gently lifted his lover’s head and looked straight into his eyes.

 

    “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Cas. They look amazing.” The angel snorted.

 

    “You must be joking, Dean. They’re still in a horrible state. They haven’t fully healed yet. I don’t even know if they’ll ever fully heal with the state Heaven is in at the moment.”

 

    “Okay, slow down. First off, I doubt they look that bad. Second, haven’t fully healed from what?” The other three exchanged dark looks that had the trickster looking in between them annoyed. “Spit it out already. We don’t have all morning!” Dean sighed and decided to speak first.

 

    “Well, a while back, Cas met Metatron--”

 

    “That douchey slob of a scribe that Dad took pity on?”

 

    “Sounds about right. So, Metatron told Cas that he had a way to fix Heaven and restore it to its “former glory” or some bullshit like that. Since the dude had, ya know, met God and everything, Cas believed him." He turned to Castiel. "He had you do, like, trials?”

 

    “He told me they were trials. They were actually part of a spell to cast all angels out of Heaven. Metatron had me kill a nephilim, acquire a cupid’s bow, and… he stole my grace.” The archangel’s eyes shot up in alarm.

 

    “Then how are you still… alive? You? With wings?”

 

    “He later revealed that he hadn’t used all of my grace and I obtained what was left of it. I’m not at full strength, but I manage.” Gabriel paced, struggling to accept the information given to him.

 

    He stopped for a moment and, without looking at him, said to Castiel, who tilted his head in confusion, “Take out your wings.”

 

    “I don’t--”

 

    “Just, for once, act like you’re a seraph and listen to me, Castiel. You may rank above other angels and everything else out there, but you sure as Hell don’t rank above me. Now show me your wings,” Gabriel growled, patience wearing thin.

 

    “Hey, you can’t--”

 

    “Don’t test me, Dean.” Reluctantly, Castiel unfurled his wings and stretched them. Sam stared in shock. Midnight black feathers with the faintest trace of dark blue on the tips adorned Castiel’s injured wings. There were bones bent at awkward angles, feathers barely hanging on, and dried blood caked where bone protruded underneath the plumage. Dean was stupefied, having not seen all the damage when he had touched Castiel’s wings. The seraph had a look of agony on his face as Gabriel examined them carefully, fingers smoothing out any ruffled feathers and gingerly touching bone. The angel let out a pained hiss and Dean quickly stroked a wing, dulling the pain he could feel, which was beyond weird. Castiel was in pain, yet Dean felt it as his own. Gabriel let out a low whistle.

 

    “Yeesh. What’d ya do, almost get eaten by a hellhound? Get in a fight with Luci or any more of my idiot brothers? If I had to deal with," he gestured towards the wings, "That everyday… How long have they been like this?”

 

    “…Over two years…” he whispered. Gabriel closed his eyes in despair. Then, without warning, he grabbed one wing in each hand and sent massive waves of grace through each, blinding the Winchesters for a few moments. The seraph cried out in pain and Gabriel grunted with effort. When they could see again, Castiel’s wings looked in much better shape, white of bone no longer visible and feathers finely groomed, shining pristinely. He flapped them experimentally, wincing a bit as he did so.

 

    “I fixed what I could. The bones are back in place and on the mend, so I wouldn’t advise flying anytime soon. I mean, you could, but you’d probably drop like a brick falling off a building if you tried. Eh, your choice. They should heal faster now. You should be able to feel it.” Gabriel seemed out of breath as he said so.

 

    “Thank you, brother,” he said gratefully and in awe.

 

    “So, back to the whole Sam is your soulmate thing,” Dean interrupted, changing the subject. “He can see your wings, and he can touch ‘em, right?” Sam stared at his brother while gently threading his fingers through one of Gabriel’s larger wings. The trickster shut his eyes and sighed in content with a carefree smile. “Ooookay. So, if I can do that to Cas, does that mean…” Gabriel opened his eyes and grinned.

 

    “Congratulations, Dean. It’s a Castiel! How’s it feel to be the proud soulmate of an angel?”

 

    “This’ll be good,” Sam mumbled to him. Dean and Castiel stared at each other in wonder mixed feelings flickering across their features before Dean promptly passed out, the angel catching him before he could hit the floor. Castiel turned to the pair bewildered, Gabriel snickering while Sam gave him an apologetic look.

 

XxX

 

    “Okay okay, wait,” Gabriel chuckled a few hours later, the four gathered around a restaurant table a few minutes away. “So, Dean was stuck acting like a dog all day?! Are you serious?”

 

    “Yeah. All the other animals he could understand hated him. I think he growled at a cat or something. He even barked at a mailman!” Sam exclaimed, joining Gabriel in laughter.

 

    “Do I need to tell him about the time with the rabbit’s foot? You tripped over your own feet--” Sam immediately got quiet.

 

    “Dean, don’t--”

 

    “Gets kidnapped after he knocks himself out with, what was it, window curtains? That was after he almost set himself on fire.”

 

    “If you say it--”

 

    “Then, he steps in gum and, in the most dorky way possible, says, “I lost my shoe.” He had a pout on his face and everything! It was so pathetic. I think I almost felt sorry for him.”

 

    “You know what, Dean?” Sam started to say before he looked around the table at his companions. Gabriel looked like he was having the time of his life, Dean looked like he would die of laughter, and Castiel had a brilliant smile on his face, so unlike their usually stoic angel friend. “Forget it,” the younger brother finished, a slight grin playing at the corners of his lips.

 

    “That’s the spirit, Samoose! Now, who’s ready to order?” The other three looked up to see a confused and bewildered waiter holding a notepad and pen, staring at them like they were some extraterrestrial specimen. “And Sam, if you order a salad, so help me Father, I will turn it into a bowl of sweets and force you to eat every piece before we leave here.” It was everyone else’s turn to look confuzzled. The hazel eyed hunter held up his hands in surrender.

 

    “Alright, alright. No salad, I promise.” Gabriel patted his arm, satisfied, as he ordered some fettuccine, drowned in marinara sauce of course. Sam ordered his with alfredo.

 

    “Good man.”

 

    “They have burgers at a classy place like this? Why haven’t we been here before?!” Dean asked his brother, as he ordered a triple bacon burger with everything on it and several sides despite Castiel’s eye roll and head shake. The hunter was really starting to rub off on him, the other three noticed. They didn’t know whether that was a good or bad thing. “And my buddy there’ll have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or two and some pie.”

 

    “Dean--”

 

    “Dude, just eat the food and be happy.” ‘ _You’re gonna stand out if you don’t order some food, man. Just play along._ ’

 

    “Uh… anything else, gentlemen? Drinks, perhaps?” the confused waiter asked.

 

    “Water, please,” Sam responded.

 

    “Water would be fine,” the seraph agreed.

 

    “I’ll take a beer,” Dean answered.

 

    “Chocolate milk would be great.” The table stared at him. “What? Check the menu! It literally has everything on it.”

 

    “Someone’ll be back with your orders in a few minutes.” With that, the waiter left.

 

    “Oh! Before I forget,” Gabriel exclaimed, touching two fingers to Castiel’s forehead, “I heard that you couldn’t quite enjoy food like you used to, Cassie. You’re welcome,” he told the angel as an odd tingling sensation filled his head. He shook his head and gave the archangel a funny look.

 

    “What did you do?”

 

    “You’ll find out in a minute. So, while we’re waiting, what happened the day you destroyed the library? I’ve been meaning to ask.” Dean and Castiel exchanged nervous looks.

 

    “Well, Cas freakin’ lost his mind because some of the God squad decided to attack the bunker looking for me. Some chick stabbed him--”

 

    “SOMEONE WHAT?!” the archangel screamed, eyes glowing, fuming.

 

    “Calm down! It’s not like you can get revenge, anyway. He already killed her. He’s alive and he’s perfectly fine.” Gabriel’s eyes dulled back to their usual honey golden brown and he took a few deep breaths to calm down. “Besides, it was almost like he didn’t even feel it. He was glowing. As soon as he saw me though, it’s like he calmed down. Even weirder, none of his wounds would heal when we got upstairs. His grace just refused to fix him.”

 

    “Laura had a platoon of sorts with her, searching for Dean. She… threatened his life and… I let my anger take over, I suppose.” Gabriel let out a low whistle.

 

    “And they say a guy’ll do anything for a girl…” As he said that, a petite brunette girl walked over with a cart of their food. Her aura seemed off, however, as she approached, making Castiel wary.

 

    “Enjoy your food, gentlemen. Let one of us know if you need anything else.” As she put the last drink down, she blinked to reveal pure black eyes, instantly putting the Winchesters and Castiel on alert. Before anyone could draw their weapon, Gabriel snapped his fingers, making their hands immobile.

 

    “Easy there, fellas. She’s no threat, trust me.”

 

    “Since when were you buddy buddy with demons?” Dean demanded to know. “Why aren’t you smiting her ass or something?”

 

    “This is a supernatural hideout for hunters and everything that goes bump in the dark, Dean-o. You three of all people should understand me when I say that not everything out there is evil. Demons are the least of your worries here. I’ve met vampires, werewolves, pagans, your occasional angel, shifters, witches, reapers, ghosts, someone cursed as a wendigo, and I think Death dropped by a time or two, ya know, before one of you idiots went crazy with his scythe. And, of course, you’ve got a few hunters that drop by every now and again.”

 

    “Why haven’t me and Sam ever been here before then?” he asked, taking a satisfying bite out of his burger.

 

    “You need to come here with someone who's entered the establishment before. It’s a trust system kind of thing. Only those who honestly need a place to go or have good intentions can be here.”

 

    “So, what if you bring someone here who you can’t trust with anything?” Sam questioned, taking a sip of his water.

 

    “Oh, you’d know as soon as they try to walk in,” the demon waitress replied. “This building isn’t just a restaurant or a safe house. It’s… special.”

 

    “Meaning?”

 

    “Meaning you should eat your food and hope you never have to find out,” she snapped, wheeling the tray away without a backwards glance. Sam looked to Gabriel, who just shrugged his shoulders. To add to the awkward mood, Castiel made a delighted sound that grabbed their attention.

 

    “I can actually taste this! I can taste the peanut butter, jelly, and bread, just like I could during my time as a human. It’s still the most amazing food I’ve ever eaten.”

 

    “Oh my God--”

 

    “Hey! Watch it. We’re angels, in case you forgot,” Gabriel interjected.

 

    “--That means I have to introduce you to so many things. You’re going to love bacon, ice cream. Oh man. Wait ‘till you try pie…”

 

    “Dean,” Sam started, sighing at his brother’s enthusiasm. Today had been pretty weird, and that's saying something when you’re a Winchester. He couldn’t wait to head back to the bunker and just unwind after everything.

 

 

Closing A/N: Well, that happened. And yes, I know that everyone talks about the rabbit’s foot when they need to talk about Sam looking like an idiot. I tried, okay? So, um… Yeah… Words. Uh… Any comments, I guess? Questions maybe?


	6. I Want To Make This Work

Chapter Six: I Want To Make This Work

 

A/N: Okay, so I’ve joined the Lucifer fandom… Well, it’s changed my perspective on good ol' Luci, so I’m a bit… conflicted about where I was going with this plot, so I decided to change some things, making me rewrite this chapter. Also, the whole Sabriel thing? Rethought a few things and they’re going in this chapter too. Here’s the next bit. Sorry for such a long wait!

 

 

    Lucifer sat in Hell’s throne room, alone and lost in thought. Crowley would prove to be an very entertaining pet no doubt, but he had other issues to deal with. If he was going to defeat the Amara, he was going to need something to add to his power. From what he’d been told, he’d need a Hand of God, which was something the Winchesters desperately needed as well. Speaking of the Winchesters, that brought up another issue he needed to take care of: Castiel. The angel had gone silent after he’d entered the vessel and, while it shouldn’t have been, it was a cause for concern. The devil had dismissed all the demons in his presence and ordered that no one was allowed in unless upon his request. Lucifer retreated into Castiel’s mind…

 

XxX

 

    Lucifer opened his eyes to surrounding darkness, yet found many pairs of his red irises staring back at him. Before he could begin to wonder what that was, he found himself standing in a somewhat familiar hallway. He knew he’d never been down it before, but a set of memories said otherwise. They were Castiel’s, of course, and he used them to navigate the dimly lit corridors. Finally, he heard the source of noise in the otherwise eerily silent mindscape. Walking through the doorway that led to the noise, he found himself in…

 

    “The Winchester’s kitchen. Really, Castiel?” The seraph shrugged his shoulders, fixated on the outdated TV on the table in front of him that was playing some rerun of a rom-com. “Oh, for the love of--” The angel grumbled in complaint as he snapped his fingers and the screen went black. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

    “Whatever you want from now, Lucifer, I don’t care. I’ve given you my consent to use my vessel. What more do you want?” the seraph asked, turning to face him.

 

    “It’s more of a certain someone we both share an interest in: Dean Winchester.” Castiel narrowed his eyes.

 

    “What’re you--”

 

    “You probably won’t believe me,” Lucifer interrupted. “No one really does, but I want to make this work for you.” Castiel snorted.

 

    “And I suppose you think you’re more qualified to be in a relationship with Dean than I am?” Satan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. The angel had spent way too much time with Dean. The hunter’s bad habits were rubbing off on him; most notably was his changing attitude towards certain things, and people.

 

    “That’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is that it took seven years for you two idiots to realize that you love each other. You’ve wasted so much time denying it and beating around the bush. How much more will you waste before you go all the way, huh? Grace-soul bonding, sex, kids. How much time is going to go by before it’s too late for you two to enjoy a life together?”

 

    “Isn’t Gabriel the one who should be saying that to me? And why do you suddenly care about Dean and I? All you’ve cared about thus far is being released from the Cage and having your way.”

 

    “Wrong,” the devil declared forcefully. “I do not just care about myself. You may not realize this, but my family is everything to me. When Father created humans and asked me to love them as I did Him, I couldn’t. I loved Him more than anything. And when I had to kill Gabriel? I shed tears afterwards, enough to drown this planet and make the oceans look minuscule in comparison, like mere water droplets.”

 

    “Which brings us back to my question. Why. Do. You. Care?” Castiel gritted out.

 

    “Because I want you to be happy, moron!”

 

    “I don’t believe you.”

 

    “Read my mind then. Better yet…” He reached out to Castiel’s grace with his own. The seraph’s eyes widened at the realization of what Lucifer was trying to do.

 

    “No! Do not taint what remains of my grace with your own,” he growled, trying his best to shield himself from the archangel, who just gave him a look.

 

    “It’s not as bad as you think. Only three other angels have let their grace mingle with mine. Only two of those three are alive, no thanks to you I might add,” he hissed, referring to Raphael. “You should feel honored.” With only as much force as he needed, Lucifer breached Castiel’s defenses and touched his grace. The archangel almost recoiled, flinching at the sheer amount of pain emanating from it. All of Castiel’s conflicting emotions poured out, the feelings of worthlessness, shame, heartbreak, hope and confidence, concern and defiance. Then, there was the love. The romantic kind for Dean, the family kind for Sam, the brotherly love for Gabriel… And just the slightest bit for him… He had to be one of the most unique angels Lucifer had ever met.

 

    “Are you… satisfied?” Castiel inquired, feeling vulnerable with his innermost thoughts and feelings exposed.

 

    “I will be once you read me,” Lucifer responded. Castiel warily reached out and gasped in shock at all that he was receiving. Hurt, frustration, anger, determination, cockiness, love. To add to the shock, Lucifer’s was some of the purest grace he’d ever felt. _Lucifer_.

 

    “That last one surprised you, didn’t it? Yes, I can feel love. I’m not some heartless--”

 

    “It was the intensity I felt and… the pureness of your grace, not the emotion itself, that startled me. Forgive me, brother. I didn’t-- I-- Thank you, for caring. I honestly hadn’t considered everything that had happened. The way you told it from an outsider’s point of view… I never gave much thought to the time factor.”

 

    “Well, I’m glad I brought it up then. In case you forgot, Dean’s human. Humans age and they die. Dean doesn’t have forever like us and Heaven is, well, not the most inviting of places at the moment, especially for a Winchester. I’m not saying rush it, because that won’t end well, but move it along some. Don’t hide your feelings from him so much. With these… dark days ahead, he’s going to need you.”

 

    “That’s not going to be easy with you in the driver’s seat.” Lucifer whistled, impressed.

 

    “Those Winchesters can do some good after all. You’re actually talking in a way people can understand you!” Castiel frowned, picking up on the teasing.

 

    “Lucifer--”

 

    “Alright, I’ll stop. Mmm… Tell you what, whenever the Winchesters need your help, like on a case, or you need to be at the bunker for some unknown reason, I’ll let you take over. Anything to do with Amara is my business. No strings attached, no buts, no catches.” The angel eyed the devil with suspicion, but, feeling no dishonesty through his grace, brushed it off.

 

    “I suppose that can work.”

 

    “Then it’s settled. By the way, Amy decides to marry Chase, not Alex. Saves you the trouble at the end.” With a snap of his fingers, he was gone and the tv began blaring again. The movie had continued onto the wedding scene of Amy and Alex. Castiel sighed, turning the screen back off. He examined his thoughts, pondering all that Lucifer had said and letting his mind drift to the thoughts of his lover.

 

XxX

 

    Lucifer slowly awoke to the vibration of a cellphone in Castiel’s-- his -- trenchcoat pocket. He’d become too used to Nick’s vessel it seemed, though he’d quite liked it. The caller I.D. said Dean, so, naturally, he answered in his best Castiel voice. Better to use the time he had to practice, right? Castiel urged him to let him take over, but he ignored the lesser angel, suppressing his presence for the moment. ‘ _Lucifer, let me talk to him,_ ’ the seraph pleaded.

 

    ‘ _In due time, brother,_ ’ the devil responded. After clearing his throat and pressing accept, he said, “Hello, Dean.” How did he talk like this everyday?

 

    “Cas! … Uh… I didn’t actually expect you to pick up.”

 

    “Why wouldn’t I answer your call, Dean?” Lucifer asked. He heard the hunter take a deep breath over the line.

 

    “You haven’t said a word since the whole thing in Hell. I’ve been worried about you, angel. You haven’t even talked with Gabriel since then. I’ve seen the weird stares between you two…” The fallen angel tried to come up with a believable response.

 

    “Lucifer is family. Gabriel knew that I wasn’t completely alright after our encounter. I’ve been a bit reluctant to voice my… concerns about the matter…”

 

    “I honestly thought Gabriel would be more affected, ya know, given that he was always close to Lucifer. Sometimes I wonder if the heartless bastard ever even gave a damn about him, or if he was just manipulating his feelings so that he’d have Gabriel’s trust--”

 

    “Don’t you question my-- Lucifer’s love for Gabriel. He loves him with ever fiber of his being and always will. It’s just that, under the current circumstances--”

 

    “Hey! Easy there, buddy. I’m sorry. I know that your winged family can be really close sometimes. I didn’t mean to say something that… insulted anyone.”

 

    “No, forgive me, Dean. It’s been more than stressful since our visit to the Cage. I didn’t mean to take out anything on you.”

 

    “You’re good, you’re fine. Listen, I was wondering… If you’re not doing anything, why not swing by the bunker? I think it’d do Sam and Gabriel some good to see another friendly face around here, and you can tell me anything you need to. Vent as much as you want.” Castiel smiled warmly inside the vessel at Dean's concern.

 

    “I’d like that.” There’s a few seconds’ pause before Dean clears his throat.

 

    “Well, I guess I’ll see you when you get here.” Lucifer hummed in reply. He hoped Castiel didn’t mind, but regardless, he was going to say it. He needed to sound believable, right?

 

    “I love you, Dean.” He uttered, hoping he sounded sincere. He must have since he heard the hunter’s breath catch in his throat.

 

    “I-- Me too, Cas,” he responded softly before hanging up. Lucifer pocketed the cell and took a page out of his brother’s, though technically his own playbook, conjuring up an illusion of himself on the throne, before summoning a demon to the throne room.

 

    “Have every demon you can round up searching for clues about the Darkness. Look through every book, blog, website, article, scroll, everything, until you find something relevant. Have a few scout and ask around for omens and sightings. With luck, we’ll find her within the end of the month.” With a nod, she did as she was told and Lucifer, who had given control back to Castiel for the moment, disappeared with a flap of wings.

 

XxX

 

    Something was seriously off with Castiel. Their visit to Hell must’ve really shaken his angel--His angel? His angel.--up if he was getting all… He didn’t even know. Gabriel was obviously sensing it too, yet it was hitting really close to home based on the fact that every time he was around Cas that he couldn’t even look at him properly. It must be an angel thing. And then, his angel had said the three magic words, a ray of hope in all this gloom, doom, and despair. He couldn’t even fully enjoy the words though since the Darkness was his main focus. At least, she was, until Castiel fell out of thin air, landing unsteadily on his feet. The hunter shot backwards before rushing to Castiel’s side to steady him. The seraph groaned in pain, wings trembling and drawn tightly together.

 

    “Cas! What the-- Did you fly here?” Gabriel, who had invited Dean into his bedroom since before the hunter’s call, raised an eyebrow with an expectant, scolding look on his face.

 

    “Yes," he groaned painfully, taking a few deep breaths, "Though not without injuring myself.” The archangel stood up from his seat on the bed and stopped in front of his younger brother.

 

    “What happened to not flying and possibly dying mid-flight, Cassie? I repaired some of the damage to your wings so that they could heal, not so that you can tear them up by flying so soon! I basically just lost a brother! I won’t lose you, too, or anyone else for that matter!”

 

    “You won’t lose us,” he replied, trying to convey who he meant with his eye. “We won’t let it happen.” The unshed tears in the trickster’s eyes spoke volumes, and Gabriel asked if he could talk to Castiel alone, just for a little while.

 

    “Yeah, of course,” Dean replied, giving Castiel a longing look.

 

    “Later, I promise,” he told him, giving him a brief kiss before the hunter left the room. Gabriel let out a breath before conjuring up a bag of peppermint Hershey kisses.

 

    “Alright Cassandra, Lucile," he began in a joking tone before suddenly turning serious, "Spill. I know Lucifer’s in there with you Castiel. What I want to know is why?” Lucifer’s voice filled both their heads. _‘Would it be easier to have this conversation if I create a clone or illusion for you?’_   The two looked to each other.

 

    “I suppose it would be less complicated that way.” Gabriel nodded and the form of Lucifer’s earlier vessel Nick appeared. “It’s a long explanation, Gabriel--”

 

    “Then shorten it, fledgling. We could’ve found another way. You didn’t have to make the hard choice. We could’ve helped you!”

 

    “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand--”

 

    “What don’t I understand? And if I don’t, then make me understand. Make me understand how you could choose the last resort option. Make me understand why you thought Luci was our best chance of winning this war.”

 

    “Okay, little brother, and Castiel. Let me simplify this for you so that earth actually still exists by the time this conversation is over. Cas here has wounded pride, feels useless, like an outdated, old, rusty tool that needs replacing. He thought the dynamic duo didn’t need him anymore because he had run his course. The only useful thing left he could do was to provide me with a strong vessel, seeing as how Sam would never agree to such a thing. With my power, his power, and a Hand of our Father’s, we’d have enough power to kill our aunt and save this world. Long version," he finished, sending some grace Gabriel's way, "Is that. Memories. We’ve hit a bit of a snag though, seeing as how--”

 

    “You can’t find a Hand of God. I know. Sam and Dean are looking too." He popped two Hershey kisses in his mouth with a sigh. "Castiel, why didn’t you ever say anything? How could you possibly think that they don’t value you as a part of this team? That I don’t?” The seraph averted his eyes, ashamed. “You’re my brother, Castiel. You’re like a brother to Sam. Heck, you’re Dean’s soulmate! You’ve died for them more times than anyone can count, have been to Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and back for them, have been their guardian angel all these years. Don’t you ever think that you’re not useful, or cared about.” Lucifer was whistling a tune absentmindedly during their talk, prompting his younger brother to stare at him in annoyance. He stopped for a second.

 

    “Oh, are you done with your little heart to heart? Sorry, I was trying not to doze off. It’s not like it’s any of my business. The only thing I’m concerned about is when you’re going to tell Sam and Dean. I may not care about them, but I do care about the two of you. What’ll keeping this little secret do to your “relationships,” if you can call them that anyway? If they don’t find out from you directly, you’ll probably let something slip--”

 

    “You want me to tell them that I assisted you in your escape from the Cage? Do you know how they’ll react?”

 

    “Do you?” the devil fired back with a serious look. “I mean, c’mon. After everything you’ve done, all the horrible things that have happened thanks to you or them, do you really think that they would judge you that harshly? You set the Leviathans loose on this world for Pete’s sake! Well, that was after you tried to proclaim that you were replacing Father as the new God, of course.” Gabriel gave Castiel a disbelieving look.

 

    “You what? Wha--? How much have I missed since I’ve been gone?”

 

    “Plenty, little brother, plenty,” the fallen angel answered. Gabriel sighed again, changing the subject.

 

    “Alright, Castiel. Let me take a look at your wings," he insisted after finishing off the bag of Hershey kisses. The lesser angel turned around and flexed his wings. Lucifer hissed at the amount of damage he could sense.

 

    “Yeah. From now on, we’re using my wings to get around. Yours are just… How do they even still work?” Gabriel ignored Lucifer, seemingly puzzled after his observation. “What is it?”

 

    “Well, there’s no new damage. Actually, some of the bones reset themselves into the right position. That’s why they’re so painful right now. They’re healing great, actually.” Some of the stress in the air disappeared. “So," he began, clapping his hands together, "You and Dean don’t have too much fun now.” Castiel glared at his older brother before looking to Lucifer, who dispelled the illusion and went silent, and leaving the room.

 

XxX

 

    “Dean?” Castiel called through the hunter’s door. It swung open and the angel entered the room.

 

    “Hey, angel.” The two came close to each other and their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. This kiss felt normal, better than normal, and not like Dean was kissing an entirely different person. “How’ve you been? First off, how are your wings?” Castiel gave him a questioning look before manifesting his wings and stretching them far out behind him.

 

    “See for yourself.” As soon as his soulmate’s fingertips grazed the tip of one of his feathers, all of his worries began to melt away, out of sight, out of mind. He hummed contently, almost purring, as Dean started asking him questions. Where had he been? What had he been up to? Was anything strange happening? And then…

 

    “How are you dealing with the whole Lucifer thing?” The angel stopped, making Dean stop threading his fingers through his feathers. “Cas? Talk to me.” Lucifer looked to Castiel in his mind, eyes saying to make a decision.

 

    “It’s complicated, Dean. There’s so much I need to tell you…”

 

    “Then tell me. Like I said, you can talk and vent as much as you need to.” Dean looked hurt when he didn’t get an answer. “You can trust me with anything. You know that right?”

 

    “It’s not that I don’t trust you or can’t tell you. I can’t say anything yet, not until I’m sure I know what I’m doing.”

 

    “Which is?” Castiel hesitated.

 

    “Crowley… owes me a favor. His demons are helping me find information on the Darkness and where she might be. Hell is basically at my mercy.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

 

    “Holy shit. Crowley must owe you a big favor if he’s lettin’ you run the show downstairs.”

 

    “You have no idea,” he muttered under his breath. “Do you need my help with anything?”

 

    “Actually, yeah. We need a weapon with insane power levels, even if we don’t have the angel power.” ‘ _Oh please,_ ’ Lucifer quipped. ‘ _I’ll be using that weapon when they find it. You watch._ ’

 

    “You have Gabriel,” he reminded the hunter.

 

    “True, but we owe him enough as it is, not to mention him not being in any sort of fight or battle for the last 7 years. Besides, I’ve seen him around family. He could never kill Amara.”

 

    “Who then? Who will wield this weapon once you find it? You, Sam, Crowley, Rowena, some random supernatural creature?”

 

    “You, Cas.”

 

XxX

 

    Gabriel went into the kitchen and whipped up a mug of coffee. It was the middle of the afternoon, but he felt exhausted. What Castiel and Lucifer had told him was weighing on his mind. He wanted to tell Sam, so badly. It was killing him that he couldn’t. No, not couldn’t, shouldn’t. Talking to Sam shouldn’t be this hard, but ever since their conversation a little while back, things had been a bit different between them. They had agreed to take things slow, seeing as how they weren’t like Dean and Castiel, who knew each other like the back of their hands. So, it was a shock when Sam returned from the library and went into his room to find Gabriel waiting for him, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

 

    “Gabriel," he greeted, giving the archangel a hug. "What’s up?”

 

    “I need to tell you something extremely important, Samoose, but… you can’t yap to Dean-o once you know. Got it?” Sam frowned, but nodded.

 

    “Does Cas know?”

 

    “Heh. Actually, it involves Cassie. We decided that telling Dean now isn’t the best idea. He’d probably barge into Hell and go on a killing spree, then come back and kill me for keeping it a secret.”

 

    “C’mon. It can’t be that bad,” the hunter told him, setting some books down on his nightstand. “I mean, have you met us? I doubt he’s done something to top everything we’ve already done.”

 

    “Yeah, uh, about that. Leviathans? He set Leviathans free from Purgatory? I knew he’d been there, but…”

 

    “That is a very long, painful story for the four of us to talk about another day.”

 

    “Y’know, we debated on whether to tell you too. Castiel didn’t want to, but I shut him down, because I’m not about to keep this from you.”

 

    “Are you actually going to tell me, or are we just going to keep dancing around this?” Gabriel took a deep breath and patted the space next to him on the bed.

 

    “It’s a novel basically, so we’re gonna be here for a while.” Sam slowly sat beside his soulmate before Gabriel began retelling the tale. The hazel eyed hunter’s expression seemed to change every five seconds with all the crazy things being explained to him. His attention never wavered as he listened raptly. An hour or so later, and Sam was holding his head in his hands with closed eyes.

 

    “So… let me get this straight. Cas thought that… we didn’t need him anymore, that he was useless, and he’s felt this way for a while now. That made him decide that Lucifer was the only viable solution to the Amara problem. He said yes in the Cage, and now the devil is riding shotgun in his body, but they’ve got some sort of agreement for who’s in control and when. Does that about sum it all up?”

 

    “You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Gabriel said, confused.

 

    “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to be mad, or grateful, or… What? And now you want me to keep this from Dean? Do you know what this’ll do to him when he finds out?”

 

    “Yes. Unfortunately, I do, but it was Castiel’s decision to make, not ours.” Gabriel replied in irritation. “You can’t change the past, and no, we’re not going back in time to fix anything.”

 

    “Couldn’t you have stopped him, or talked some sense into him before he said yes?”

 

    “I didn’t know he was going to do that when we got to the Cage. Besides, you know how stubborn he can be.” Sam didn’t respond, causing concern for the archangel. “Sam?”

 

    “Give me some time to think about this,” he finally whispered. “I won’t tell Dean, but… That doesn’t mean I approve of this.” Gabriel’s face fell, causing Sam to tilt his chin upwards to give him a reassuring kiss. “I’m not mad, Gabe. I just… It’s a lot to process right now.” The honey eyed trickster nodded, getting up from his spot on the bed. With a flap of his wings, he was gone, leaving Sam to ponder the new information he’d just received. This wasn’t going to end well, was it?

 

 

Closing A/N: So, there’s that. I might try and get a Christmas spin-off posted before Sunday. I don’t know yet. The whole Lucifer possessing Castiel thing is starting to get a bit more complicated than I anticipated, but let’s just go with it. See y’all next update and, if you celebrate it, have a Merry Christmas!


	7. The Sibling Situations (Part 1)

Chapter Seven: The Sibling Situations (Part 1)

 

A/N: So… Hi! I’m not dead! Uh, heheh… If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been on a Star Wars craze, but I’m back, for now, with an update on my birthday. Woo! Skipping to episode 11 now, which I’m borrowing heavily from because writer’s block is a you know what. Anyway, here’s the next chapter. Please don’t kill me.

 

 

   “Okay, even I have to admit that, when he’s not so uptight like a _good little soldier_ , he’s just about at our level. Now when would I ever do that?” asked Lucifer, who was currently in control of Castiel’s vessel. Castiel’s little… episode… a few weeks back sounded jarring to say the least. Actually **feeling** the power surge was exhilarating, almost making him uneasy. Almost.

 

   “How many has it been now, three, since the first time?” Gabriel questioned. “Are they all the same, or is there something different each time?”

 

   “They’re getting longer, a little unstable at times. Ya know, if you really think about it, and ignore the fact that he’s… well, him, you could mistake him for--”

 

   “That’s happened once, and **that** angel didn’t survive the process. Does it have an off switch, because I’m not about to let Castiel destroy himself it if does.” Lucifer sighed.

 

   “No one knows, baby brother. No angel has survived to tell the tale. I guess you could ask daddy dearest, if you can reach out, though he **is** still on vacation after all. You’d have better luck than me…” Gabriel finished his slice of red velvet cake and deposited his plate in the kitchen sink of the bunker. “Even Aunt Amara can’t get his attention and she’s been trying, believe me. You think **I’m** sadistic? Mmm.”

 

   Harshly releasing a breath, the trickster asked, “Have you talked to Castiel about it yet?” Lucifer opened then closed his mouth unsurely.

 

   “ _Weeeeell_ … It’s kind of like the Ginny, Tom Riddle thing where she doesn’t remember doing all those horrible things and writing in blood on the walls except with… me and Cassie.”

 

   “So, you’re saying that he doesn’t remember and all this is your fault?” he quietly accused, eyes flashing sapphire for a moment. The Devil held his hands up in surrender.

 

   “I’m not for sure yet, but I think I’m part of the reason. The rest is out of our hands.”

 

   “Meaning?” Gabriel growled.      

    

   “Meaning I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” Gabriel clenched his hands into trembling fists in fury and defeat. He knew it wasn’t Castiel or Lucifer’s fault, that this instance was a random happening and out of their control, but he couldn’t help but want to… to… he took a deep breath as his mug of sweetened ice tea slowly cracked, on the verge of exploding into shards of porcelain. If Castiel kept enduring that level of power, then he’d-- “It won’t come to that. I’ll do what I can, but… I can only ground him for so long--”  

 

   “Does he know, what this is doing to him I mean?” The fallen archangel gave him an overdramatic guilty look.

 

   “Uh, let me think. NO. I haven’t said a thing. He can’t hear a word we’re saying right now and it’s going to stay that way when we’re on this topic. I don’t need him trying to kick me out now do I?”

 

   “And you think that he won’t get suspicious that we’re blocking him out?” the younger archangel questioned with worry.

 

   “Blocking who out?” a new voice rang out. Sam attempted to saunter into the room, but both of them saw through him in an instant. He dropped the upbeat look instantly, dragging himself into the room. Gabriel felt Sam’s distress, sending him a pulse of reassurance he was grateful for.

 

   “Couldn’t sleep?”

 

   “Uh… not really that, but…” Gabriel leveled him with a concerned look. “No, not really.” The hunter turned towards the other angel in the room. “Lucifer,” he greeted calmly, if a little cold.

 

   “So you did tell him. Also, is it that obvious?”

 

   “I’ve spent too much time around you. Of course I’d be able to tell you're not Cas.” His voice held a bit of malice, but Lucifer seemed unaffected.

 

   “So, _Sam_ , what brings you here, intruding on our conversation?” Sam sighed tiredly.

 

   “Dean and I found another case on our way back from killing a shifter. He wants Cas on the case with us. Apparently, some more rogue angels, if the surveillance footage is any indication, are looking for him. We need him with us to--”

 

   “-- draw them out. I… understand,” Castiel finished, now back in control of his vessel and unable to push away the empty feeling in his gut. "Did you get a name, an angel or a faction, perhaps?”

 

   “Not yet, but we do know where they’ll go next. One of them got word of you in Kenesaw, so they’ll probably head that way and go from there.” Castiel was silent for a moment before responding.

 

   “ _No._ ” It was soft, barely audible, but Sam heard it, dumbstruck.

 

   “Wait, what? Cas, we need you--”

 

   “No, you really don’t. Besides, Gabriel and I were just leaving before you and Lucifer interrupted.”

 

   ‘ _W_ _e were?_ ’ the trickster thought to him. Castiel gave him a look that said, “Just go with it.”

 

   “Yeah. Castiella here thinks he has a lead on Auntie Amara. We’re going to go look into it. We’ll roll in like Sherlock and Watson and vamoose before anyone knows we were there.” Uncertainly, Gabriel flashed Castiel a mostly confident smile and nodded to Sam before the two disappeared with a flutter of wings. Sam blew out a breath in agitation, leaving the room to find something to occupy his time with. Meanwhile, the two angels reappeared in a peaceful nature park some ways away. The sun cast a beautiful golden and orange glow across the surface of a lake occupied by gulls. The honey golden brown eyed archangel crossed his arms as the seraph stared into the distance.

 

   “Alright, spill. You don’t want to be around Dean right now, do you?”

 

   “No. He’ll know I’m different, that something’s changed. I don’t want him to suspect.”

 

   “He’s already started suspecting since you’ve been radio silent the last few days. At this point, he’ll probably bite your head off if you show your face.”

 

   With a perplexed face, Castiel inquired, “How would Dean--”

 

   “It’s a figure of speech. My point is, running away with your feathers in a bunch won’t make your problems disappear.”

 

   “You’re one to talk,” the seraph retorted, surprising them both. Gabriel growled.

 

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he hissed, leaving without a second glance, a golden feather landing lightly at the water’s edge. Lucifer had a hand over his mouth, an overjoyed look on his face as he tried to keep from laughing.

 

   ‘ _Are you gonna tag me into the fight now?_ ’ Lucifer asked. Castiel, relieved for a break, gladly traded spots with his older brother, who proceeded to buy bread to feed the gulls with later.

 

XxX

 

   “I’m fine,” Sam insisted lowly. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, deciding to continue doing maintenance on his gun.

 

   “Well, good, ‘cause I think I found us a case. Harold Miller, 65, a resident of Oak Park, an old folks’ home, was found yesterday in his room with his head bashed in. But get this-- The doors were locked and there was no sign of break-in.” He sounded so proud of his discovering the case. When he got no response, he continued. “Ghosts? Demonic possession?" He gave an exasperated look. "I figure it’s worth a look. What do you think?” he asked, walking around to the front of Sam. “Oh, and the best part is, Oak Park is fifteen minutes from here. It’s in our backyard,” he finished with a smile. Sam finally put his pistol down, trying not to be cross with Dean.

 

   “First, I thought we already had a case, on angels?”

 

   “Yeah, but that’s a whole state away--”

 

   “That’s never stopped us before. Second, what about the Darkness?” Dean seemed lost at that. “What about Cas? We haven’t heard from him.” Dean felt a pang of guilt at the mention of his angel.

 

   “Okay, first of all, we’ve got zero on Amara. And Cas? Cas’ll be fine. He always is.” As much as Dean wished he could believe his own words, he knew they were a lie. Castiel was **no** t fine by any measure at the moment, and it was all his fault.

 

XxX

 

    _“Who then? Who will wield this weapon once you find it? You, Sam, Crowley, Rowena, some random supernatural creature?”_

 

_“You, Cas,” Dean answered genuinely, softly, looking his angel directly in the eyes. Castiel stared at his soulmate in confusion._

 

_“What do you mean me? I’m no archangel, that’s for sure.” Dean paused, not sure how he should word his response._

 

_“What about the power surges you keep getting? Dude, when you’re glowing like a supernova and causing a tornado, you definitely feel like one. Maybe, if we could trigger that while you hold the Hand of God, it could work. Screw Lucifer and forget about Gabriel. All we need is you and--”_

 

_“It’s funny,” the seraph interrupted, calm demeanor rapidly melting into anger, to both of their surprises. “Every time you need me it’s for a case or a favor. It’s never just to hear my voice or see me before you leave the bunker for a while, well, outside of today, that is. I thought you and Gabriel had put aside your differences, yet you have no faith in his abilities whatsoever…”_

 

_“That’s not it and you know it. I--” He paused. “What’s this about?” the hunter demanded to know, staring holes into the side of his angel’s head. Sapphire eyes met emerald and that’s when Dean saw the utter agony that Castiel was feeling, recoiling and looking away._

 

_“I’m truly glad you think so highly of me,” he bit out, half sarcastic, “And I know that wasn’t your intention, but I can’t help but feel like you don’t care, not about my feelings at least.” The Winchester was beyond crushed at the moment. Had someone shoved an angel blade through his chest?_

 

_“Why would you say that? Of course I care about your feelings! We’re--”_

 

 _“Is that why it took over seven years to finally confess to me? Is that why you treat me like a tool that can be used and reused at will whenever you need it? I have tried to let it go, but it’s always the same: everyone calls Castiel because they want something and never seem to consider my opinion on the matter or how it affects me. Even after the fall of the angels, you said you needed my help. Even after I lost my grace, you forced my cooperation. Do you know how much of a toll everything since then has taken on me? Do you know how it feels to know that you’re responsible for a war between your brethren that almost endangered the entire world? Everything that’s happened since then and even before, I have been to blame, whether fully or partially. Then, I’ve had to drag myself here to listen to one of your plans where, once again, I_ **_have_ ** _to do something. I’ve had it up to here with you!” he suddenly shouted, on his feet, true voice making itself known and eyes glowing unnaturally. “I won’t play your games anymore, Dean. If you want to defeat Amara so badly, I suggest you retrieve Lucifer because you’re certainly not getting my help,” he finished almost brokenly. Dean was speechless. Did Cas really feel that way? Had he always given the impression that the angel held no importance?_

 

_“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, to which Castiel glared angel blades at him._

 

 _“Is that all you can say? Is a sorry all I get?!” ‘_ **_Woah now, brother. Maybe you should just simmer down a bit and… ya know, let him talk? Listen before you lose_** ** _it?_ ** _’ Castiel silenced him with a wave of his hand internally. Lucifer scoffed silently before, with some effort, regaining his voice. ‘_ **_Oh, so is that how it’s going to be?_ ** _’_

 

 _“I’m sorry that I haven’t been a better… soulmate (Dean Winchester would_ **_not_ ** _classify them as boyfriends now), sorry I never showed you just how important you are to me… I’m sorry you don’t think that I care.” The sincerity in his voice began to morph into annoyance and anger. “I’m sorry you’re being an asshole right now. I’m sorry I can’t say the three Goddamn words I need to get my point across! I’m sorry that I don’t spend enough time just being with you when it’s the end of the Goddamn world and there are billions of people that need saving, which is made a lot easier when you’re here, by my side, fueling my confidence! I’m_ **_so_ ** _fucking sorry, okay, Castiel?!” he raged, now on his feet, startling the angel out of his furious stupor. His eyes stopped glowing and the agony in them multiplied tenfold._

 

_“Dean, I--”_

 

_“Just shut up,” he said, pulling his angel close, breathing heavy and uneven. “They’re getting worse,” he commented after a time. “The surges and outbursts I mean. At first, we thought it was linked to me, but then it was Gabriel, then Sam… And your feelings, man? Do we know what this is?”_

 

_“No, and I’m not eager to find out. *sigh* Forgive me, Dean. Please…”_

 

_“Don’t. Don’t start that. If anything, I’m the one who should be, should keep, apologizing. And let’s face it, neither of us is good at this kinda thing. It’s alright… But I promise you, we will find a way to fix this.”_

 

_“How?” the angel finally whispered after a long silence._

 

_“We’ll find a way. We always do.”_

 

XxX

 

   From there, Castiel had left, saying that it might be best if he had some space. Dean, drowning in emotions he refused to let control him, spent the next however long searching for a case, something to get his mind off things. It wasn’t until he found himself at the grave of one Jake Townsend on their Oak Park case that he finally had to stop and think.

 

   “Dude?” Sam uttered incredulously as Dean climbed out of the mostly undug grave.

 

   “Hmm? Oh, you got this. You got this. You’re doing great… So no retirement, huh?” Sam looked to him, panting slightly with effort.

 

   “Hey, you’re the one who’s always wanted to go out blaze of glory style-- Preferably while the Bon Jovi song is playing.” He resumed digging.

 

   “I am a candle in the wind,” Dean responded. “Yeah, but the way you said it, it was like that blaze of glory was gonna happen sooner rather than later.” He let the concern for his brother he was feeling make its presence known. He leveled a serious look at Sam. “Are you okay?”

 

   “No, I’m not, actually. Not at all,” the younger brother replied after pausing. Dean raised his head at the honesty, both in shock and as a sign to continue. “Being so close to Lucifer again, that… Brought stuff up… Stuff I thought I forgot about.” He dug some more.

 

   “Do you wanna talk about it?” Sam shook his hair out of his face.

 

   “No.”

 

   “Well, look, Lucifer is never getting out of that cage, ever. And you are never going back, period. So… case closed.” As he said so, Sam’s breath caught in his throat at the statement and his shovel hit the coffin they were looking for. “And so is this one.” As they salted and prepared to burn their supposed spirit suspect, he said, “It’s kinda nice being back on a case, huh? Get your mind off things.”

 

   “Let’s burn the bones so we can go home,” Sam responded wearily. Dean gave him a look before tossing the miniature flame into the grave.

 

XxX

 

   Banshees. Of course it had to be banshees. All he wanted was a simple case, something easy that they could solve in their sleep. Apparently, that was too much to ask, and so was being able to retrieve a golden blade for the case without someone or something breaking into the bunker. Just his luck. They weren’t subtle or careful, whoever they were, because he could hear the racket from the staircase. Pistol out, he cautiously made his way through the halls until he came across one of the file rooms, lights on and door slightly ajar. Kicking it open, he yelled, “Hey!” at the intruder, who turned out to be, “Cas?” He found the angel, sans trenchcoat, pouring over a pile of files and papers on a desk, facing away from him. “What the Hell are you doing, man?” His demeanor was off, expected given their last encounter, but way more off than usual.

 

   “Hello, Dean,” the angel finally spoke, raising his head.

 

   “Right, yeah. We don’t hear from you for days, you show up, and start wrecking the joint?” Castiel sighed, rising from his seat.

 

   “I’m sorry,” he said, voice devoid of any actual sincerity. Dean threw his hands up.

 

   “Okay. W-W-What are you doing?” His face couldn’t reflect his tone any better, dumbfounded.

 

   “Well, I’m… looking for a spell, something to draw Amara out, but there’s… there’s nothing.” Dean attempted to restore some order to the room, closing drawers and moving loose papers. “I had her in my sights. She was hurt. I should’ve ended it.” Dean froze, holding a hand up.

 

   “Wait, what?... How?”

 

   “Well, I don’t know, but there has to be something… And how many more chances are we gonna get?”

 

   “Yeah, I know. Saying you’re gonna kill is one thing, but… actually doing it’s something totally different.” Castiel cocked his head slightly, confused.

 

   “What do you mean?” Dean gave him a serious look.

 

   “I’ve had two shots at Amara. I struck out both times.” He approached Dean, surprised.

 

   “What are you talking about?” The hunter shook his head.

 

   “I don’t even know where to start.”

 

   “Dean… Tell me everything.” The hunter couldn’t hold back the guilty look on his face. At that point, Dean spilled everything: how he’d seen Amara when she’d first been freed, their encounter when she was with Crowley and how she protected him, all the little moments in between… and their kiss… He couldn’t see Castiel’s expression as the angel was once again rifling through files by the time he was finished explaining. “Well, the two of you are connected somehow by the Mark.”

 

   “Yeah, no, it’s, uh… It’s more than that.” He put his head down in embarrassment.

 

   “Attraction?” his significant other asked. Dean let his expression answer for him. It was then that Lucifer lost control temporarily, Castiel fueled by his emotions to respond.

 

   “Oh, Dean--” he began. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t disappointed. He was more… uncomfortably intrigued than anything else. Dean's connection was an aftereffect of the Mark, surely.

 

   “I know, okay?" He brandished the gold blade. "Whatever it is, a… attraction, connection… I gotta tell you, man, it scares me. I don’t know that I can stop it... I don’t know that I can resist it.” He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder give a light squeeze.

 

   “Hey, it scares me too. But we will find out what this is, I promise. In the end, it may help draw her out. This could be a good thing.”

 

   “ … About before…”

 

   “I… still need a little more time, but… I’m not upset with you, Dean.” He placed a hesitant kiss on his temple, and Dean let a small smile grace his lips before his phone rang. As Dean identified the caller as Sam, Castiel went back to work before following Dean out into one of the main halls. He didn’t drag his attention away from a tome until Dean called his name.

 

   “I gotta get back to Sam. Listen about what we talked about--”

 

   “Dean, that’s not--”

 

   “Cas, just… trust me.”

 

   “ … Just between us. I know… Alright, but the next time you face Amara, you won’t be alone.” Dean looked down to find the fingers of one hand intertwined with Castiel’s. Trying to keep a straight face, he nodded.

 

    “Thanks, Cas,” he whispered. “Are… Are you gonna be okay? Lately, with everything going on, it just seems like…”

 

    “Like…?”

 

    “You haven’t been yourself, and I know that everything has been hectic and chaotic and then the Cage…”

 

    “I don’t think any of us will be fine until this whole Amara business is resolved, but, for now…” Dean met his eyes. “I’m as okay as I can be… And I have you.” This time, it was Dean who placed a gentle kiss on his angel before reluctantly leaving. Castiel felt the last of his willpower drain away watching the hunter walk off, and Lucifer retook the driver’s seat in the vessel. He grinned at the newly obtained information, making Castiel uneasy as they disappeared from the bunker.

 

XxX

 

    Dean, nursing a migraine that wasn’t likely to go away soon, wandered into the kitchen, catching the beer Sam threw to him and taking a seat at the table. Mildred’s words echoed in his mind. Following his heart is what got him into this mess in the first place. As nice as it would be to be able to sit and watch a sunset with Castiel, the world at peace, not about to be killed by something that could destroy the world in the blink of an eye, that definitely wasn’t going to happen in the immediate future.

 

    “Cas gone?”

 

    “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

    “What was he doing here anyway?”

 

    “He was looking for lore on the Darkness. Something a little off about him too.”

 

    “Something always seems a little off about Cas," he scoffed. "Yeah, you know, being so close to Lucifer probably wasn’t easy for him either. We’ll just keep an eye on him.” Dean hadn’t thought of that possibility, that the whole Lucifer thing was what was bothering Castiel the most right now. He nodded to Sam distractedly. “You were right, by the way. Getting back on the job, it… It helped.” He took a sip of his beer.

 

    “Wait, say that again. The— That part about me being right.” Sam chuckled at his brother's behavior.

 

    “You’re an idiot…” He suddenly became serious. “Dean, when I was with Lucifer, he, um… Showed me things. It was like a highlight reel of my biggest failures.”

 

    “Yeah, he was messin’ with you. That’s what he does.”

 

    “Give me a sec." He sighed. "I should’ve looked for you… When you were in Purgatory, I… I should’ve turned over every stone… But I didn’t. I stopped.” He looks to Dean, a wave of sadness overcoming him. “And I’ve never forgiven myself for it.” Dean was silent a moment.

 

    “Well… I have.” He looks to Sam. “Hey, that’s in the past, man. What’s done is done. All that matters now, all that’s ever mattered, is that we're together, so…" He smirked. "Shut up and drink your beer.” They both do, though Sam’s face held a crestfallen look for a moment. “Yeah. You gonna be able to sleep to tonight?”

 

    “Yeah. Yeah, I think so," he answered, rearranging some papers on the table. "What about you?” he asks, looking to Dean with concern.

 

    “Well,” he begins, gesturing to his injured head, “I still got some ringing going on in my head, but nothin’ some good music can’t wash out.” He gives his brother, he taps his book on the table as he gets up, a weak smile. “How’s Gabriel? He and Cas have been pretty quiet. How’s he takin’ everything?” Sam shrugged.

 

    “It’s, uh, really hitting him hard, but he tries to keep a strong face. He’s worried about Cas, about us, about how this is going to end, and I can’t blame him. But he’ll pull through.” After a pause, Sam is just about to walk out the door when he stops, something still nagging at him.

 

    “Y’know, I still can’t figure that out. I mean, banshees go after the vulnerable, right? So, why did it go after you?”

 

    “You’re overthinkin’ it. It was going after Mildred, saw my gold blade, acted out of self-defense. Simple.” Sam seemed to agree.

 

    “Yeah. You’re probably right.” He turns to leave.

 

    “I’m always right.”

 

    “Yeah, yeah.” They said goodnight to each other. Sam found that sleep came easy to him that night. Dean, however… He tried in vain, settling under the covers and willing his eyes to stay closed. Something just wouldn’t stop bothering him though. Castiel seemed so casual about his admissions. His angel was definitely forgiving, but his last outburst had been about his feelings for Chuck’s sake! Something wasn’t quite right with the situation. For some reason, his mind supplied him with a traitorous thought, one he knew couldn’t be true. He couldn’t shake the feeling though, the feeling that… ‘ _That wasn’t Cas_.’

 

 

Closing A/N: So, that’s that. The season finale part with Mary got me right in the feels, but I guess I should’ve expected it given the rep of the writers. Uh… I’m going to go ahead and say this now while I still can for any loyal readers looking at these notes. I am going to be extremely extremely busy this summer (particularly between late July and early August), but especially this school year. At the end of summer, I may or may not have to go on hiatus until a holiday week or such if my schedule proves too hectic. Just warning you now, just in case. I feel horrible, absolutely awful, for not updating for almost six months; a million apologies and I’ll see y’all next chapter.


	8. The Sibling Situations (Part 2)

Chapter Eight: The Sibling Situations (Part 2)

 

A/N: Another update in less than a month! I feel just an itty bit proud of myself. Now I just need to seriously update… 4 other fics! Aren’t I a dedicated author? Warnings for graphic depictions of harm/descriptions of injuries, but nothing overly grotesque. Hope I don’t disappoint!

 

 

    “Dean, that’s not Cas!” As soon as the words left Sam’s mouth, Dean turned to the angel in question, who wore a not so guilty smile on his face.

 

    “Cat’s out,” he said in response before, throwing the hunters back and pinning them against the wall. “Ya know, I honestly thought you knew and just weren’t saying anything about it. I mean," he looked to Sam, "Gabriel and I told Sam everything weeks ago.” Dean, feeling betrayed, looked to Sam.

 

    “You knew… You knew that he was out of the Cage, possessing Cas, and you thought… what, that you were protecting him, protecting me?!” Sam frantically shook his head. 

 

    “No, it’s not like that. We--”

 

    “Oh, save the whole, “We were going to tell you, but we didn’t know how. We were waiting for the right time,” bullshit, Sam.” His eyes shot sideways to Lucifer as he heard a hearty chuckle, which soon turned into uncontrollable mad laughter. After a minute, the Devil regained his composure, standing up straight from where he had been hunched over, clutching his sides, overdramatic, one last laugh escaping. Sam looked perplexed while Dean looked even more pissed off, glaring. “Oh yeah? What’s so funny?” Lucifer sighed.

 

    “I--" He cleared his throat. "I’m sorry,” he said, with no sincerity whatsoever. “It’s just…" He let out a sigh. "This is just great.” A grin broke out on his face. “Out of all the people destined to “save the world” and “destroy the Darkness,” it had to be you two. You, who can’t even trust each other.” He shook his head, tsking. “Father help you for what it’s worth, which is absolutely nothing, I’m afraid.”

 

    “How dare you,” Dean growled, eyes dark with fury, glare ever present. Lucifer seemed unaffected by the display. “You have no right--!”

 

    “How dare I? … How dare **you** ,” Lucifer snarled. The hunters were taken aback by that. “You want to criticize me? You, Dean, really? You constantly talk about how you don’t think my baby brother is good enough. You don’t think he can stop the fighting or be of any use to you.. Then, oh ho ho, it gets better. You have the **nerve** to act like you care about them, Gabriel and Castiel, like they’re actually more than tools to you. You only care about yourself, and Sam sometimes, when the occasion calls for it.”

 

    “Now you listen here you son of a bi--” With a wave of his hand, the Winchester was silent. Dean directed several vulgar hand gestures the angel’s way. 

 

    “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over Sam’s mental griping. Let’s not even start with you, _Sam_. I’ve seen what’s in your head, every last detail. There’s no point in you saying anything. Actually,” he spoke, seeming to ponder something for a moment before coming to a conclusion. “There’s no point in you being here, breathing, whatsoever.”

 

    “You had a deal!” Sam suddenly exclaimed. “You told Gabriel and I that Cas would be in control unless we ran into Amara. You had a deal with him!”

 

    “Oh, so Gabriel knew too? Typical.” Dean was pointedly ignored.

 

    “True, I did. However, my words to Castiel were something along the lines of, “Anything to do with Amara.” A Hand of Father definitely has something to do with Amara.” 

 

    “But this had to do with us. It was a case. Cas is always supposed to get control during a case, Amara based or not.”

 

    “Really? I didn’t know you were there for the negotiations, Sam. We didn’t say anything about what would happen if a case was related to Amara, so I don’t care what you thought was “supposed” to be a sign that Castiel got control.” He held up a hand, about to snap his fingers, when he heard something… calling to him. Not the angel siren, no, but… something familiar. The Horn of Gabriel, he realized. Turning towards the direction of the sound, he sensed the other archangel’s presence too late. Gabriel barreled into him in mid-air, momentum from flying sending them sailing into a hallway. The brothers fell from their respective walls, hitting the floor uncouthly. Dean let out a string of profanities before bashing open his hand against the corner of the table. Dripping with blood, he wrote out the angel banishing symbol on the wall, preparing to press his hand to it when Sam stopped him.

 

    “Wait,” he warned. “You do that and Gabriel’s gone too. Who knows where they might end up, what might happen?” In the hallway, Lucifer had Gabriel from behind. With a flick of his hand, the brothers were immobilized once more. Gabriel escaped the hold, leaping out of arm’s reach.

 

    “Dammit, Lucifer! I don’t want to fight you!”

 

    “You chose your side a long time ago, brother. We were bound to have a rematch eventually.” He lunged at Gabriel, stunning him with a blow to the head. “And I still win. Now,” he hissed, “You’ll watch and feel your own soulmate die… at the hands of your own blade.” Procuring his brother’s archangel blade and throwing him back against the wall, he sent the blade straight at Sam’s heart. It was as if time slowed as the honey golden eyed angel screamed out in desperation. The others’ eyes followed the blade, which slowly inched closer to Sam by the second. With a little extra grace, he froze time, and Lucifer with difficulty. Quickly, he stood, making his way over to and grabbing his blade, pocketing it. He then racked his brain for a moment when everything started falling apart. Suddenly struck with a time and disastrous idea, he spread his golden wings and took off, hoping a catastrophe wouldn’t result from his decision. 

 

XxX 

 

    He marched on, invisible to everyone but Castiel as the four of them approached the Cage. He remembered his time here clearly, and felt dread begin to creep into him. Inside the Cage, after their way out was blocked, he once again froze time, taking to the air. He flew comfortably for a few minutes before encountering a makeshift perch/platform structure in a far corner. Curious, he cautiously approached, eyes watering at the sight that met him. Its long blonde hair was covered in soot and ash, caked with dark, long dried blood. Scars littered its entire body, arms, legs, feet, torso, some more recent than others. Bruises of varying shapes, colors, and sizes called its skin home. Gabriel landed on the platform, making a soft clanging noise and making the figure draw in a quick breath.

 

    “Who--?” its voice, male and young by human standards, was hoarse from both overuse and no use at all. He violently hacked, wheezing afterwards and spitting out blood and phlegm. He painfully pushed himself up on his bony hands and knees, frame frighteningly thin. He turned towards the archangel, staring confusedly at a scuffed yet clean pair of Converse. Shakily, he raised his head, pale, almost grey, blue eyes glancing upwards. He let out a disbelieving gasp. 

 

    “G-Gabriel…” His voice was barely above a whisper.

 

    “Michael…” Gabriel couldn’t even form a full sentence, a tear (several in reality, but no one needed to know that) slid down his face as he surveyed the visible damage. Now that he could see his face, Michael was sporting two black eyes, a split, swollen lip, several long, deep gashes, and severe head trauma. “I don’t have enough grace in the world to heal everything,” he muttered brokenly, a sad smile on his face. Michael gave a pained chuckle.

 

     “No one does…” He, with effort and Gabriel’s help, got unsteadily to his feet, the Cage lurching in his vision for a moment. Soot covered the less obvious bruises and scars on his face and neck, Gabriel noticed, as he held his head in his hands, a trail of dried blood coming from his mangled left hair. Michael leaned heavily on his right leg and his left arm dangled uselessly at his side. He was hunched over, breaths shallow, good arm wrapped around his most likely broken ribs. And his wings, what was left of them anyway, were worse than Castiel’s before they’d been healed. They dragged across the ground, a dark grey array of the few feathers left on the five wings twisted the right way. Protruding bone, dried, caked blood, puncture wounds that refused to heal, singed, bent feathers… It was almost too much for the archangel, who cried out pleas in Enochian. “That," Michael attempted to speak, sucking in a pained breath, "Won’t help-- _ah!_ \--anyone, brother.” Gabriel came back to himself.

 

    “I need your help, Michael,” Gabriel mumbled desperately. The warrior chuckled softly, stopping when he felt coughs coming on and groaning in pain.

 

    “Well, as you can see, Adam and I… are of no use to anyone. You should--" He hacked and coughed violently, covering his mouth and pulling his hand away with drops of blood on his palm. "Consider yourself lucky. You caught me in one of my more lucid moments. I’m usually a drooling, mumbling mess.”

  

    “I can get you out of here. I also have a way to heal you, if you are willing. We’ll have to do things quickly after we shazam out of here and the time comes.”

 

    “What," he spit out more blood, "Makes you think we’re, you’re, getting out of here _alive_?” The younger brother took a deep breath, eyes closed.

 

    “I’m from a future not too far from now. I came back before Lucifer, who was out of the Cage, possessing another angel, could kill Sam Winchester. You and I together could keep Lucifer at bay and defeat Auntie Amara--”

 

    “So," Michael wheezed, "You went back in time, into your past self, which could’ve killed you, possibly almost ruining history at this very moment--” His eyes snapped open, glaring at his older brother. 

 

    “Now is not the time to be the obedient soldier, Michael! The world is at stake here, as are its lives!” he desperately pleaded. The blonde ran a shaky hand over his face and sighed. 

 

    “What do you need me to do?” Gabriel answered with one simple word.

 

    “Yes.” A blinding light enveloped Michael and, in a flash, he was gone. Gabriel gasped at the feeling of so much grace and energy flowing through him, doubling over and gulping in air. When the overwhelming feeling passed, he stood and dove to the bottom of the Cage, wings spread when he approached the scene below him, landing. He let the events play out as they had previously, climbing into the back of the Impala with a distraught, but hopeful, expression on his face.

 

XxX 

 

    Back at the bunker, Gabriel and Sam embraced, and the hunter asked him what was wrong. “I just… really needed to see you… to hear your voice. It’s been rough since…” Sam once again wrapped his arms around the smaller being.

 

    “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

    “No, but I just want to tell you that…”

 

    “Tell me what?” His tone was so gentle and concerned that he almost threw his plan out the window and told him all over again. Instead, he laid his head down on Sam’s shoulder.

 

    “There are things I’ve kept from you, important things that you… can’t know yet. I can’t tell you, and you know that I want to be 100% open and honest with you--" 

 

    “I trust you.” That surprised the angel. “You’re letting me know there are things left better unsaid until the time’s right, and… I understand…” The trickster paused, wearing a genuine, “Really?” face.

 

    “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

 

    “Of course. Is it something personal, or--?”

 

    “My lips are sealed, Samoose," he told him with a grin. "No spoilers.” Sam laughed softly, tucking stray strands of hair behind one ear. They pulled back from each other. “So… how’re ya holding up?” 

 

    “Uh, fine, just worried.”

 

    “About?”

 

    “Cas. He’s gone radio silent before, but this time… I don’t know. Something’s off with him.”

 

    “Well, he did the crap beaten out of him by Luci. I wouldn’t be okay after that either. Rowena zapped us out of there just in time, otherwise, I’d’ve had another dead brother on my hands…” He trailed off. That could’ve been the case, but leave it to Castiel to pull a swerve with his quick thinking. Sam wouldn’t stand for his melancholy aura, reaching through their bond of sorts for the first time. They both gasped at the feeling, and Sam was bombarded with sensations and blurred memories. He let out a shaky breath after a moment, his and Gabriel’s eyes glowing unnaturally as they returned to themselves.

 

    “I’ve never," he panted, "Done that before.”

 

    “You should see what we can do when the bond is complete.” Sam, filing away that bit of information for later, reached out again, prepared, and let his reassurance and confidence flow through the bond. The trickster smiled slightly, snuggling back into an embrace.

 

    “I know we said we were going to take this slow, and I’m not ashamed to ask this, but can we just lay down and cuddle? I know it sounds stupid and not like me at all, but… I just need something to, you know…” Sam scooted them back on the bed, bringing Gabriel to rest comfortably against his chest, and laid on his side. He felt the archangel relax against him, humming contently.

 

    “It’s not stupid,” he muttered after a while, drifting off. “It’s almost cute…” Gabriel, too comfortable to do anything, closed his eyes as well, but remained alert. He’d let that comment slide… this time…

 

XxX 

 

    “I’m assuming it’s syrup with a side of pancakes for breakfast?” Sam asked teasingly many mornings later, observing Gabriel’s overflowing plate. The archangel smiled sheepishly.

 

    “I’m not really a trickster, not by blood, but old habits die hard, huh?” He put his fork down after cutting up one of his pancakes. “Besides, don’t judge me. I was nice enough to fix you a plate too.” Sam looked to the other side of the table, a stack of steaming pancakes, minus the syrup, awaiting him. He sat down and grabbed the half empty syrup bottle.

 

    “So, why’re you up so early? I know you don’t sleep.” Gabriel froze with a forkful halfway to his mouth. He fidgeted a bit.

 

   “After breakfast,” he replied quietly. They ate for the rest of time in silence, Gabriel pointedly not looking at Sam. “I have to go.” Sam coughed into his coffee.

 

    “Go? What do you mean go? Gabe, we finally have something on the Darkness, a way to beat her! A--”

 

    “Hand of Father. I know. And you think it’ll work?”

 

    “It’s the best chance we’ve got. I say we take it. If you--”

 

    “I can’t, Sam,” Gabriel whispered. “You know I can’t. Dean’s right; I **am** useless. I could never kill my family. Besides, there’s… There’s something I need to do, something--” 

 

    “I can’t know about it, right? You know…" he chuckled softly. "It’s crazy how much I trust you.” Gabriel looked up hopefully. “How long will you be gone?” He shook his head.

 

    “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m going… And I’ll be in constant danger. I promise you, I’ll make it back in one piece.”

 

    “Ha. I could be selfish and not let you go anywhere.” He stood and walked to the other side of the table. Gabriel stood as well. With more confidence than he felt, Sam swooped in for a passionate, chaste kiss. “Come back to me,” he whispered sadly as he pulled away slowly a minute later. Gabriel grabbed the back of his head and held it where it was. 

 

    “Always…” he whispered back. He closed the distance between them and didn’t dare let him go so soon. Sam’s hand came up to cup his face as he reciprocated. They stood like that for what felt like eternity, until Sam had to breathe. Their foreheads fell forward and they stayed like that, eyes closed. Sam slowly opened his eyes when the warmth disappeared and a slight breeze ruffled his hair, his hands holding onto thin air. A sudden emptiness struck him, and he stumbled into the table. It was like someone had just cut out a piece of his heart.  Why did it feel like that would be the last time they would see each other like this?

 

XxX 

 

    Gabriel observed the gates to Heaven, at a children’s playground of all things! Quite a ways away, hidden behind a thick barrier of trees, he stood. Eyes closed, form glowing unnaturally, he reached out to Michael. Though lucid, his brother seemed to be trying to hold himself together, once again trapped alone somewhere. His mental stability was rapidly deteriorating, even as he reminded himself that he was with Gabriel and that he was safe.

 

    “Michael,” he spoke into his mindscape. “When I give the word, remove yourself from my vessel. Then, you’re going to have to give me permission to--” 

 

    “Enter Adam’s body, to heal me. Surely there was something else. You said you needed my help.” Gabriel fidgeted slightly.

 

     “Yeah." He clapped his hands together. "Heaven, as troubled as it is right now, needs a leader. Surely you’d be a better candidate than li’l ole me?”

    

     “You… oh.”

 

     “Luci’s downstairs with Castiel, and they’re making things work… for the most part, so I thought--”

 

     “Why not return as yourself? Why return as me?” The brunette averted his eyes.

 

     “No reason. I just thought you might be a more welcome sight than… me…” he trailed off uneasily, withering under his older brother’s gaze.

 

     “What made you think I’d agree to any of this? Time travel is forbidden, and here we are, in the past, meddling with one of the world’s most fragile elements. I could say no. I could leave you with your plan. Father would--”

 

     “You don’t know how He would feel about this, and let me remind you that if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in Hell, rotting away in the Cage. And you could say no? You were barely alive when I found you.” Gabriel walked around him slowly, irritated. “You _could_ leave my vessel and say no, sure. I’d leave you out there. You can find Dad by yourself if you think helping your family is beneath you. And--”

 

     “We both know you wouldn’t,” Michael retorted, calm, cool, and collected. “Even if you did, the guilt would be too much and you’d come back for me. I know you, brother. Besides, it’s not as if anyone would be surprised to see you if you went back to Heaven.” Gabriel’s face said otherwise, and Michael noticed. “… Who else knows you’ve returned?” he asked suspiciously. Gabriel froze.

 

     “Uh, well… Heh. Sam, Dean, and Cassie, obviously, Crowley and Rowena, Luci…” The blonde frowned.

 

     “No one then. Great.” The brunette felt anger and frustration beginning to bubble to the surface within his brother.

 

     “Look, nothing good would come from me randomly showing up and saying, “Hi guys! I died six years ago, or so you thought, but I’m back now! Who wants to go to war with the Darkness?” Besides, Heaven’s not… how you remember it. I would say ask Castiel, but--”

 

     “Don’t you think that news of my return would spread quickly? You can believe that the minute a demon hears the word, Lucifer will be the first to know.”

 

     “If that happens, let me handle it. He’ll talk to **me**. I’m pretty sure he’s still mad about--”

 

     “You’re not handling anything. If Lucifer confronts me, I will speak to him myself. What you should be worried about is what you’ll do once we’re in Heaven.”

 

     “That’s not the point. I’m trying--”

 

     “There are factors to consider and unknown elements to include. The way you talk makes it sound like you’re improvising. Your plan is foolish, enough to start a war between Heaven and Hell--”

 

     “Will you **_stop_** interrupting me?!” Gabriel suddenly shouted. “Just because you’re older does **not** mean you can talk over everyone. I basically jailbroke you! The least you can do is show me some respect!”

 

     “The least you can do is know your place,” Michael spat back. “Do not mistake my common sense for disrespect. You wanted my help; I’m helping you. Your plan needs to be straightened out if you want me to do anything more.”

 

     “I-- " He let out a frustrated grwl, trying to compose himself. "I’m looking big picture here, Michael. The Darkness can’t be stopped by one of us alone. That’s not how things went the first time, and it’s now how they’ll go now. She can’t be stopped by one side alone; they’ve tried. If Heaven and Hell can work together at least temporarily, then we have a better chance than we do now. And there’s a silver lining here,” he pointed out. “You said it’s your destiny to fight Lucifer. Well, after all this is over and we all go back to merrily hating each other, you can fight it out all you want. Forewarning though, Sam and Dean and I are going to show up if you do. But hey, what can you do?”

 

     “You get along with Lucifer much better than I do--”

 

     “But I can’t kill Amara. She’s family. Like it or not, she’s still our aunt. You, on the other hand, have never had a problem following orders or doing what needs to be done.” He smiled sadly. “I’m too much like Castiel; we’re both Team Free Will. Heaven needs structure. I’m not the leader they need." He chuckled humorlessly. "…I’m not the leader anyone needs.” Michael looks at him thoughtfully, eyes calculating.

 

     “…You try, more than most.”

 

     “Yeah, I guess." He playfully slapped Michael's shoulder, apologizing when his brother winced. "And how am I going to heal you if we’re like this?" he asked, gesturing around them. "Getting you out of the Cage has done some good, but those injuries won’t heal themselves, not when you’re in that condition.”

 

     “It is easier to breathe out here,” he admitted. “And there’s no new ways to… i-inflict pain…” Michael’s eyes were becoming distant as his words faltered. He shook, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He paled, breaths now quick, shallow, panicked. He saw brief flashes of Lucifer, taunting him, making precise cuts along whatever body part he felt like starting with. There was the pummeling until his bones snapped, the stabbing and slicing, wrenching his limbs into positions that shouldn’t have been possible. Then the wings, and—

 

     “Hey hey **hey** ,” the younger brother started. “Look at me. Look at me, Michael!”

 

     “He caught me off guard, did things to me, said--”

 

     “I need you to leave my vessel and say yes--”

 

     “I-It’s safer in h-here…” he stammered, curling in on himself. Gabriel didn’t know how to react for a moment, couldn’t feel the satisfaction of finally seeing Michael **afraid** for the first time.

 

     “I know, but it’ll just be for a second, okay? You won’t even notice. Just say the word.” Michael seemed hesitant, looking up  at him like a wounded animal. Gabriel crossed his arms. “I’m standing by the gates, waiting for you, where anyone could see me. Seriously?” The prospect of his brother in danger snapped him out of his stupor enough to leave, a cold, empty feeling settling into Gabriel’s gut at the loss for a moment. Opening his eyes, he saw an almost tearful Michael looking straight at him, condition hardly changed from his time in Hell apart from his now short hair.

 

     “Yes,” he whispered, and Gabriel’s form glowed and disappeared, engulfing Michael. The older archangel gasped, falling to one knee, squeezing his eyes shut until the possession was complete. Opening his eyes, he felt strangely self conscious, as if someone were watching him.

 

     ‘ _Nope, just me. Oh, and Adam too_.’ The blonde re-examined his vessel, surprised to find the cuts on his skin healed, now joining the rest of his scars. He felt around the inside of his head, feeling more clear-minded than he had since before the Cage.

 

     “This feels… strange, but not unwelcome. How long must you stay before I am healed?” Speaking without pain was a welcome change.

 

     ‘ _It depends on the extent of the damage, which, for you, is… whew, a **lot**.  I can’t really say for sure right now, but it’ll take a while. And I get to hang out with my new roomie_.’ He’d almost forgotten about the human, Adam. The boy must be an absolute mess now compared to him.

 

     “Try to keep quiet in there. I don’t need to look even more insane than I already do by talking to myself.”

 

     ‘ _No promises_.’ Sighing, Michael stepped through the trees, observing the gates. Feeling his angel blade in his jacket pocket, he saw the gates glow as he approached them. They opened, and he stepped through.

  

XxX 

 

    White walls, a spotless interior, endless hallways and doors… That’s the sight that _should_ have met him. Instead, blood and slash marks decorated the walls: footprints, handprints, fingerprints, splatters, and dried rivers. The walls were like a canvas of carnage, painted in blood in varying shades of red. “Angel radio,” as it was dubbed, was eerily silent throughout the main building, as was the building itself. The hallway that led to the personal Heavens of the soul residents was blocked off by warding and piled up remains of heavily damaged furniture. Michael stretched his five halfway operational wings for the first time in a while, wincing as pain shot through his shoulderblades and down his spine.

 

     ‘ _I wouldn’t if I were you. Healing two wings was draining enough. I don’t think I can handle five that still halfway work, let alone one that definitely won’t fix itself. Just use mine while I’m still here._ ’    

 

    “I wanted to fly throughout the building, see if anyone’s here.”

  

    ‘ _Already scanned the place. The only things here are the souls in their respective Heavens. Maybe there’s a war meeting going on outside?_ ’

 

    “It’s worth a look.” Eyes briefly flashing blue, Gabriel flew them to the outside. He **really** wished he hadn’t.

 

    It was a battlefield, felled angels lying in piles and rivers of blood, wing marks and shadows burned into the ground beneath them. A mix of Enochian and English was heard in the air above the reverberating sounds of blade on blade. Vicious blows were thrown and landed, stabs and slashes with murderous intent hitting their marks. There seemed, however, to be two sides to the fighting. Why? “The war’s not between Heaven and Hell,” Gabriel uttered, horrified. “It’s between angels.” He stood on the rooftop of HQ, analyzing the battle that raged down below him. He found the center of it, where the fighting was at its worst, and decided to head for there. Michael, not the one to be left out of a fight, agreed with the decision. Eyes flashing back to their pale sky blue, his bruised and battered form flickered into his silver battle armor and leather and metal greaves, and he withdrew his angel blade from his hip. As he did so, it glowed briefly at the touch of his grace, elongating and transforming into his renowned sword. Its golden and silver hilt gleamed in the weak rays of light filtering in through the dark cloud bank above him. The edges of the blade had Enochian written across them, glyphs, spells, and ancient magic imbued in the blade that responded only to him.

 

    With what little of his usual strength he could gather, he drove the sword into the ground, causing huge cracks to erupt from the point of impact, shouting, “ENOUGH!!!” The blast of energy from the actions knocked every angel on the battlefield off their feet, elevating the ground below Michael above the rest of his surroundings. The clouds above burst apart, rays of sunlight shining down to illuminate him. Despite his ragged, injured form, he was unmistakable, recognized by his voice alone if not for his sword and form. Everyone lay on the ground stupefied, looking up at a leader proclaimed lost years before. They got to their feet before kneeling on one knee, heads bowed in respect. Breaking the silence, one word was whispered through the air in Enochian: _Michael_.   

  

XxX 

 

    As the shaking ceased in Hell, everyone gasped at the power surge that momentarily flooded the room, a pure power surge. Lucifer, who had been in the middle of humiliating Crowley, lay on his back, wings cushioning his fall as he groaned in pain. Suddenly sitting up, his eyes snapped open, glowing blue as what he recognized as grace phased through the room for a split second before disappearing. His form flickered to show Nick’s vessel briefly before returning to that of Castiel. He’d know that grace from anywhere.

 

    “M-My Lord?” One of the demons, a newbie in fact, asked in concern. With a snap, her head twisted a full 180 degrees before she fell dead at his feet. He stood, brushing off his slacks and trenchcoat. A ringing noise that almost shattered their eardrums, at least to the demons, swept through the room. They all covered their ears and screamed in pain at the sound, hunched in on themselves. Lucifer recognized the wave of Enochian spoken by several thousand voices of his “brothers and sisters.” As his lackeys recovered, he grasped the word the angels had spoken: _Michael._  Impossible. That wasn’t… possible. Michael should be in the Cage, half out of his mind and suffering a fate he’d brought upon himself. Instead, he was free, free and asserting his power back in Heaven.

 

    Barking at the demons to vacate the room once they regained themselves, he sat on his throne, eyes dangerous and dark, glowing scarlet once more. The former King of Hell studied him intently, on his knees in chains, trying to read the Devil. The last time Michael roamed the Earth at the same time as Lucifer, it was the time of the Apocalypse. Now, it was another end of the world scenario. He would not have his goody-two-shoes big brother, as if he had the right to be the oldest, ruin his plans, not now. Castiel, through all of that, didn’t know how to react to the news. Michael, out of the Cage? When? How? Lucifer growled low in his throat, one statement to his brother coming to mind.

  

    “Bring it on.”

 

 

Closing A/N: Yep. Michael’s back, mostly sane, and in Heaven, which is in a lot worse condition than I’d previously planned. I got a bit dark with the descriptions of harm. Apologies, I don’t know why that happened. Next chapter’ll start at the end of last chapter (Ch. 7), but in this new, altered timeline. See y’all then.   


	9. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's a bit thrown together, but here ya go.

Chapter Nine: Changes

 

A/N: To recap, this starts at the end of chapter 7, but in the altered timeline. Sam is oblivious and the rest happened about the same. Also, I still can’t write fight scenes, so if it gets confusing at that point, I’m sorry.

 

 

   That didn’t make sense. Of course that was Cas. He was just a little preoccupied then, that’s all… Yeah. Still, as he sat on the edge of his bed in the dark, doubt flooded him and he hated himself for it. He thought back to their heated conversation, how Cas had seemed broken. He felt the tightness in his throat and knot in his stomach appear out of guilt, and he shook his head to clear those thoughts, but they didn’t disappear. Instead, it brought up a memory, one that just didn’t feel right.

 

XxX

 

_“I’ve had it up to here with you!” Castiel yelled in his true voice, eyes glowing dangerously. “I won’t play your games anymore, Dean--” Castiel was surprised to find the hunter’s lips desperately pressed to his, effectively snapping him out of his rage. Dean saw guilt and shame in his angel’s ocean blue eyes as he pulled away. Before the seraph could say another word, Dean pressed a finger to his lips._

 

 _“Don’t start." He gulped. "You had every right to say what you did and I deserved every second of that.” He heard the emotion in his voice and cursed internally. He made the angel look him in the eye. “But don’t you_ **_ever_ ** _think that I don’t care about you, that I wouldn’t die for you, that I wouldn’t do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re my world, Cas. You mean everything to me…"_

 

_“Dean…” The two slowly leaned closer to each other, lips meeting  softly, gently. It was slow, passionate, full of everything they didn’t know how to say aloud. The hunter’s hands came up to cup Castiel’s face, and he didn’t notice that he was on top of him until he opened his eyes. His angel was flustered beneath him, hair slightly ruffled, tie undone, trenchcoat thrown across the bed._

 

_“Whatever’s happening to you is not your fault, and I promise that I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it. Right now though… Stay with me?” Sitting up, he slipped off his shirt and fully removed the angel’s tie._

 

_“… Of course.” Castiel unbuttoned and removed his shirt as well and Dean leaned down to capture his lips again. After a moment, the angel found the courage to lightly tangle his hands in Dean’s hair. Dean hummed, deepening the kiss, one hand on Castiel’s chest and the other resting against his cheek. The next thing he knew, their positions had switched, castiel ravaging his neck, leaving marks and soothing them with butterfly kisses. He then moved on to kiss along his jawline. All the while, Dean tried to hold in any undignified noises that might escape him. He wasn’t entirely successful (In other words, he wasn’t successful at all). Only when the seraph pulled away did he return to the moment, panting slightly and looking up at the angel like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. “We should get some rest,” Castiel whispered, clambering off him. He moved to spoon Dean from behind, pulling him into his arms, wings wrapped around them protectively. Dean melted into the embrace._

 

_“”G’night, Cas,” he whispered._

 

_“Goodnight, Dean.” Castiel fell into a sleep-like trance and Dean, for the first time in a long time, got a good night’s rest. When he awoke the next morning, his angel was staring at him lovingly, and for once, Dean didn’t mind being watched. Castiel explained that he had to go, lest the demons become suspicious of his whereabouts. Dean frowned._

 

_“Can’t you stay just a little longer?” For good measure, he carded his fingers through one wing, paralyzing the angel as pleasure zipped along his spine. He answered with a moan, clinging to Dean._

 

_“I--" He shuddered. "Suppose I could.” For the next few minutes, Dean had his way, smoothing down feathers and admiring the wings. When he got to the base of each wing, the angel hid  his face in Dean’s chest, muffling a loud curse in Enochian, room glowing briefly. He moved his hands back down, stopping at the tips of each midnight black wing._

 

_“Are you sure you have to go?” The seraph chuckled as he reached for his clothes._

 

_“Who are you, and what have you done to Dean Winchester?”_

 

_“This is my hopeless romantic side. Only for you, angel.”_

 

_“ I see,”  Castiel chuckled. His soft smile faded a bit as he buttoned up his shirt and threw his trenchcoat on._

 

_“Be safe.” With a nod, he was gone, a black-blue feather drifting to land on the bed. Rubbing the rest of the sleep out of his eyes, he made his way to the kitchen, where Sam sat at the table, on his laptop._

 

_“Hey.”_

 

_“Hey,” Dean replied, pouring himself some coffee. Sam looked up and spotted the vast collection hickeys Dean’s neck sported._

 

_“Dude, really?” Sam questioned. His tone was a mix of amusement and annoyance._

 

_“What? I was in the bunker last night if that’s what you’re getting at.”_

 

_“Yeah, I know.” Sam let a mischievous smile rise to his lips. “I heard you, last night and a few minutes ago.”_

 

_“No, that’s not what happened.”_

 

_“Right. So you and Cas didn’t--”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_“Whatever you say.”_

 

_“Sam!” Dean warned._

 

XxX

 

    The end of the memory made a smile tug at the corners of his lips, but it didn’t feel… real. Scratch that. It **definitely** felt real that night, but… something about it felt out of place, and that made the attempt at a smile disappear. He thought he would’ve argued or said something to Cas, but instead, he defused the situation. That wasn’t a very him thing to do at all; none of that was. Nevertheless, he pushed the feeling aside and focused on what to do with his lack of sleep.

 

    “Cas?” he whispered quietly. He waited for a moment. “Cas?” he asked louder. A minute passed, and still nothing. “Castiel?” he called out. Groaning in frustration, he blindly reached for his phone on his pillow when he heard the sound of wings.

 

    “Dean?” He turned on his lamp and looked to Castiel, who seemed genuinely confused and surprised.

 

    “Hey, angel.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him. Castiel sat.

 

    “I thought I heard you calling out to me. It’s been so long since anyone’s done so. I thought I might be hearing things.” They both smiled shyly before Castiel continued. “Why did you call to me?”  

 

    “I couldn’t sleep, and… I wanted to see you.” The seraph startled at that, not knowing what to say. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, and--”

 

    “No, I understand. I… There’s been something bothering me as well…” He looked to Dean. “Down in Hell, I felt a power surge, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, beside Lucifer during his time on Earth.”

 

    “So you felt something on archangel levels? Could it have been Amara?” The angel shook his head.

 

    “No. The being felt too pure and bright to be the Darkness, and the power surge came from…” he trailed off, panic gripping him. “From Heaven,” he finished quietly.

 

    “Meaning?”

 

    “Meaning that our rogue angel problem has probably just gotten much more complicated. Are you still going to investigate the case in Kenesaw?”

 

    “Yeah. We got more footage of them wrecking some joint, asking about you. You’d think they’d have left by now. If we don’t go down there soon, we run the risk of losin’ ‘em. Sam and I were gonna head up there sometime this week.”

 

    “When you do, call me. Perhaps, if things aren’t dire in Hell, I can assist.”

 

    “I’d like that. We could use the company and the back-up, if you’re okay with that!” he added hastily at the end.

 

    “I took no offense, Dean. Of course, if I am able.” The hunter let out a sigh of relief, resting his head on the angel’s shoulder.

 

    “Thanks, Cas.” Castiel hummed in reply.

 

    “You should get some sleep.”

 

    “I’ve been trying.” With a sigh, he turned and pressed a kiss to Dean’s hair.

 

    “Goodnight, Dean.” He raised his head, about to ask something, when Castiel pressed two fingers to his forehead. Unconscious, Dean didn’t hear Castiel leave, or see him tuck him in with a sad smile. Now that Michael was out of the Cage, Lucifer had more worries to deal with. This might be the last time in a while he’d see his soulmate in peaceful conditions, and it worried him what might become of the world now that both older archangels were free once more.

 

XxX

 

    “Michael,” the blonde heard one of the angels whisper in awe, finally breaking the disbelieving silence on the field. “You’ve returned.” Michael spotted him a few feet below, a mere fledgling really, just starting adulthood in angel years.

 

    “I have,” Michael responded, “And I’ve returned to find my home in ruins! Thousands of my brothers and sisters lay slaughtered, like animals, around me, our main base of operations a wrecked mess. I have returned to a realm of violence, hate, and death… It seems I haven’t left Hell at all.”

 

    “How do we know you’re not some creature in disguise, infiltrating Heaven while it is weakened?” An angel, defiance and, most notably, distrust, rolling off him in waves, stood. A slight scowl was etched on his face, eyes narrowed, blade at his side. “You say you’ve returned from Hell. You could be Crowley for all we know.” The rest of his brethren looked at him as if he were crazy for speaking like that, to an archangel no less. Michael turned to look at him with a face of cold anger, glaring. His blue eyes suddenly started glowing as he made his six wings fully visible, pulling his sword from the ground with ease.

 

    “ _You will know your place, Zathriel,_ ” he boomed in his true voice, “ _Lest your loose tongue cost you._ ” Zathriel, taken aback and shaken, returned to his previous position, head bowed in apology. The glowing stopped, Michael trying to keep his breathing even. Flaring his power was more exhausting than he remembered. “It has come to my attention that the Darkness has returned, and Heaven is more divided than it’s ever been. For everyone’s sake, this fighting has to end.”

 

    “This war is bigger than Heaven. Castiel has chosen to ally with the Winchesters, with a traitor, and it’s their fault she’s loose in the first place!” someone piped up.

 

    “Be that as it may,” another angel, on the opposing side began, “he’s been working with them for years to **stop** this kind of madness--”

 

    “Even though he’s caused his fair share of world ending scenarios--”

 

    “He’s trying to save us!”

 

    “He’s trying to destroy us!” A multitude of voices broke out as the two sides began bickering, mixing into one huge blanket of noise. Michael clutched a hand to his eyes, eyes squeezed shut as violent memories resurfaced. Gabriel, panicked and horrified at what he was seeing, tried to suppress the PTSD symptoms of the Cage. False memories they both knew were lies, used as a form of torture, made their way to the forefront of his mind. With effort, he pushed them back and opened his eyes, angry and frustrated at his weakness.

 

    “ _SILENCE!_ ” Michael finally shouted, chatter dying away instantly as he regained himself. “This pointless bickering and arguing will solve nothing, and neither will killing each other. We must all be united and ready should the Darkness choose to target us next. Even if she doesn’t, we must be prepared to defend Heaven and ourselves with our full might when she makes her move.” One of the higher ranked of the angels looked to him, asking to speak.

 

    “If I may, how will we be at our full might when you yourself are in less than perfect condition?” She gestured to his wings, the bruises decorating his skin, his less than steady stance.

 

    “I may be injured, but I am no less formidable than when I’m at full power. I am still fully capable of defending myself and Heaven. Archangels aren’t easily defeated. You’d do well to remember that,” he responded. Addressing everyone else now, he declared, “You must put aside your differences for the time being.” They all looked at each other with contempt and loathing. “Anyone who doesn’t,” he growled in an authoritative voice, “Will face me. For now, we should restore Heaven to its former condition. You can find me in my usual spot.” Blinding them with his grace for a moment, his eyes flashed once again, and Gabriel flew them away from the crowd of angels. They opened their eyes and dropped their hands when he was gone, looking around at the carnage they’d caused and internally groaning. They stood, all silently agreeing that their issue would be settled at a later time. For the sake of their safety and wellbeing, they began to repair the damage.   

 

XxX

  

    “Cas, I don’t think charging in is the best idea here.” Sam tried to reason with the angel to no avail. He didn’t stop marching towards the diner until a hand landed on his shoulder.

 

   “I know you’ve got beef with them, but just calm down, angel.” His tone was more gentle than Sam had ever heard it. ‘ _I don’t wanna lose you if there’s a whole mob in there. Just… let us come up with a plan. Please?_ ’ It had been ages since he’d used their mental link, but he felt like the situation called for it.

 

   ‘ _I don’t like the idea that they’re after us, me. They’ve been here for at least a week, trying to obtain my location, or where I might have headed. They’re either desperate, clever, or suicidal. The last thing they’d expect is a head on assault._ ’

 

   ‘ _I_ _t could be a trap._ ’

 

   ‘ _Do you remember what happened the last time they tried to kill us? Trap or no--_ ’

 

   “Guys,” Sam interrupted. They looked to him. “You were doing it again. What is it?”

 

   “Cas thinks they won’t see it coming if we just barge in there. I think it’s risky, but it’s worth a shot.”

 

   “How many are in there?”

 

   “Five,” the seraph answered, staring through the building’s walls. “Like last time. Armed, angry, finishing a meal.” Dean raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, exchanging a look with Sam as they pushed opened the door to the diner. A tall man with short black hair, slicked back, hanging just above his shoulders, wearing a crumpled, bloodstained grey business suit and slacks, stood, grinning maniacally.

 

   “The Winchesters and just the angel I wanted to see,” he quipped. “Castiel.”

 

   “Dmitri. I’m surprised you’re not at your post, guarding the gates from the inside.”

 

   “There would be no point. Anyone who entered or tried to leave would probably end up dead. Of course, you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

 

   “I know Heaven is divided.” The opposing angel guffawed, looking to a companion over his shoulder.

 

  “ _Divided?!_ … How about **torn** between two sides: one that wishes to retain what little honor they have left by living how we always have… and one that believes _**you** are right _.” He spat out the last part, disgusted and bitter. “One that believes following orders and looking for guidance is not the answer, and taking matters into your own hands is. We are at war, and there are few ways it will end.”

 

   “Wait wait. Heaven is at war with itself? There’s no time for that when the Darkness is--”

 

   “That’s just it! If it weren’t for you," he snarled pointing at Dean, "And you," he added, glaring at Sam, "None of this would be happening. At first, it was just internal revolts and rogue squadrons, *turns to Castiel* which you experienced firsthand with Laura. After our failed attack, fingers were pointed, hopelessness settled in, and sides were picked.” Two more angels in similar attire flanked him as he spoke, the last opting to remain seated at his booth, cutting his food with his angel blade. “You humans are as much to blame as he is. Why we didn’t come to finish you off sooner, I will never know.”

 

   Dean scoffed, “It’s been tried before. Trust me when I say you don’t wanna know what happened to the last guys.”

 

   “Regardless… we cannot let you walk out of here. You can come with us as prisoners of war… or die trying to resist.” The angel in the booth suddenly pressed their hand to a glyph drawn with dried steak sauce, the diner briefly illuminated before returning to normal. Castiel felt as if his grace was suddenly just out of reach, unresponsive as he tried to access it. He groaned in pain, down on one knee. “A tricky little piece of work. It completely neutralizes the abilities of a targeted abnormal being. You’re as good as human now.” Sam looked panicked and Dean looked like he’d just been slapped. Castiel, who at first seemed defeated, smirked.

 

   “Whatcha smilin’ about, huh?!” asked one of Dmitri’s allies. Castel’s smirk grew, and he let the glow of his grace surface briefly, standing as he spread his now mostly healed black-blue wings.

 

   “Are you sure about that?” he questioned snarkily, Dean chuckling as the glyph’s power faded from the area.

 

   Still confident, Dmitri commented, “Still, there are five of us angels, and three of you; one outcast angel and two measly humans. The odds are stacked in our favor.” An angel blade slipped smoothly into his hand. Every other angel repeated the motion. Sam and Dean extracted one from their jackets. Wings safely tucked away again, Castiel tried to shield the brothers as the five approached slowly, as if stalking prey.       

 

   “The odds in one situation were one angel against five. The outcome was my victory. Do you really think this time will be any different?” Castiel asked calmly.

 

   “Laura was a fool. She had no plan, nothing to fall back on should her efforts begin to fail, and she antagonized you apparently. Really, one comment about your hunter pet set you off is the word.”

 

   “Hey, I’m not anyone’s pet!” Dean snarled as one angel took a swipe at him that he easily blocked. “What I am is the dude about to send your ass packing!”

 

   “Watch your tongue, human,” the angel still eating growled, “Or you just might lose it.” He popped whatever piece of meat still on the end of his blade in his mouth, flipping brown strands of hair out of his grey eyes. Castiel’s eyes flashed blue dangerously, narrowing. He approached said angel, face to face with him, glaring.

 

   “I’d like to see you try,” he told him. It was then that the angel lashed out, Castiel leaping out of harm’s way as the fight began. Dmitri joined his ally’s side to outnumber Castiel as two cornered Dean and one cornered Sam. As Dmitri double teamed Castiel, he grinned as his adversary struggled. Whirling strikes bombarded the seraph from two sides, the blades nothing more than blurs as he tried to keep up with their movements. They had left quite a few nicks and gashes across his arms and face. Dmitri’s strikes varied in intensity and force, heavier strikes landing on areas where pain flared up on impact while lighter strikes were heavy enough to draw blood, but light enough to be little more than an annoyance. One particular strike, a blow with the handle to the throat, left Castiel reeling, stumbling back and almost losing his footing.

 

   “I’ve been around a while, Castiel, longer than you. My experience, my skills, my battle prowess, are all superior to yours. Just give up.” He tutted when the seraph replied with a swipe towards him that instead hit his companion, leaving a deep gash in his blade arm. Grace and blood seeped out, and as the angel grasped his arm in pain, Castiel delivered a fatal blow to the gut. With a cry and a burst of light, the first of five had been felled. Dmitri, with a roar of anger, redoubled his efforts against him.

 

   Meanwhile, Sam took a more strategic approach to his opponent. Outmatched strength, and everything really, wise, he opted to keep his distance, observing their movements and actions, trying to find tells or signs that would leave them open and vulnerable. A twitch of the eye implied a forward lunge. A growl implied a barrage of slashes aimed at his chest. Fidgeting in his right hand, his free hand, meant-- Sam let out a grunt as he blocked a heavy blow aimed at his throat. He hissed as the clanging of metal echoed loudly right in his ear. He pushed back against the strike, but his opponent wouldn’t budge. Instead, he backed Sam up towards the wall, shoving stools and chairs aside. The Winchester grunted as his back collided against hardwood.

 

   “Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. One female and one male had chosen him as a target. While he preferred a direct approach, she opted to watch, only interfering if Dean was getting the upper hand. Dean let out harsh breaths as they both hammered down on him, making the three of them look like they were in a handicap fencing match. He sent a well aimed kick at the angel’s midsection, stunning him enough to push him back and get some much needed breathing room. He toppled over an upturned table. Following that, his partner sunk her blade into Dean’s hand, causing him to drop his blade with a shout. Her next attack saw her blade leave a long, jagged slash in his arm. His next cry of pain caught Sam’s attention.

 

   “Dean!” Keeping his enemy’s blade from slitting his throat, he reached out without thinking, full of adrenaline, as if his willpower alone would be enough to keep the angels at bay. Sam gasped when he saw her freeze, groaning in pain as light began erupting from her vessel. He imagined pulling her away from Dean. Instead of that, she was forcefully ripped from her vessel, which toppled to the ground, unmoving. Squeezing his hand into a fist, her bright form vanished with an earsplitting shriek, shattering glass and splintering wood. A light sheen of sweat covered his face and his blade arm shook violently as his head swam, the room spinning slightly. The other three angels stared at the, thankfully still breathing, vessel in shock. This gave Sam the opportunity to shove his angel blade through the being attacking him, and Dean the chance to shove the angel attacking him back again. Dmitri glanced back at Castiel, whose glowing blue eyes were locked on the angel targeting Dean. Snapping his fingers, the angel burst into a bloody mess, catching everyone’s attention.

 

   The fighting ceased as both groups regrouped on opposite sides of the now wrecked diner. Dmitri stood alone, frustration and defeat clearly written across his features. Sam’s eyes glowed slightly, his veins illuminated also as he helped Dean to his feet. Dean, bewildered, glanced at his brother before turning his attention to Castiel. The seraph grimaced at the scene before him, taking Dean’s hand and sending healing pulses of grace through the hunter. He then turned to Dmitri, who held his angel blade up weakly in an attempt to salvage whatever dignity he still had. He dropped the blade when he saw Castiel’s eyes flash crimson, red taking over the angel’s usual blue irises. His breathing stuttered in fear, and he took an unsteady step back. “You,” he accused, pointing at Castiel.

 

   “Tell Heaven that the next time they send a squadron to attack me, there won’t be any survivors returning.” Blinking, his eyes returned to their normal sapphire hue, Dmitri assuming he’d imagined the change.

 

    “He’s back, you know, and when he finds out about you…” Almost tripping over his feet, he scooped up his blade and scrambled out the diner’s back door without looking back. Castiel turned to the brothers then.

 

    “Sam--”

 

   “I’m fine,” he replied before the angel could finish. “I’m… I’m okay.” The glowing faded, and he swayed on his feet before regaining his balance, suddenly exhausted.

 

   “You’re fine? First with demons, and now with angels?” Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. “Anyone else got secrets they’d like to share with me? First it’s the soulmate thing, and then you and Cas suddenly get these crazy powers that look like they could kill you if you’re not careful. Now, Heaven’s got a civil war on its hands and everyone but us knows it. Is there anything else someone would like to tell us?”

 

   “Dean--”

 

   “No, Sammy. Don’t-- Just don’t right now… Did you know you could do that?”

 

   “No! I saw you and then I just reached out without thinking about it, and it happened.”

 

   “So what, like muscle memory?”

 

   “I can’t explain it. It just happened.” Dean paced, hands over his head.

 

   “The last time you started this, I almost lost you forever to Goddamn Lucifer, Sam! Why do you think I get so riled up over stuff like this? We don’t know what this could do to you in the long run!”

 

   “The last time I pulled a demon from a vessel, I was just fine. We talked about it afterwards--”

 

   “That was with demons. It could be different with angels.”

 

   “That was years ago, Dean. Things can change. I’m tired, sure, but what do you expect when you pull something as powerful as that from someone? I won’t use it, if that’s what you’re worried about, not unless I have to--”

 

   “Alright, Sam. End of story. I get it. We’re done here.” Dean walked off towards the front diner door, out the way they came, Castiel not far behind him.

 

   “Dean--”

 

   “Not now, Cas.” Sam followed a few seconds after.

 

    “Yes right now,” he retorted, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop. Sam paused in the doorway. He saw the two exchange words briefly before Castiel laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder and they were gone in the blink of an eye. Sam, fighting to keep his eyes open at this point, wearily climbed into the Impala, grateful that Dean didn’t have the keys on him. He started her up and began making his way back to the bunker.

 

 

Closing A/N: So, that’s that. More rogue angels, Sam’s powers continue to surprise and develop, and Michael is mostly keeping himself together at the moment. The future of this timeline proves very… interesting regarding an unlikely pairing. Just a forewarning. Anyway, until next chapter.


	10. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are suspicious of the recently changed timeline, Michael is suspicious of events happening in Heaven, and his angelic siblings, and Luci is suspicious of Castiel, who is trying to protect way too many people at the moment.

Chapter Ten: Suspicion

 

A/N: The title says it all. Everyone is suspicious of everyone because reasons. I don’t know how to explain it honestly without explaining **everything** , so let’s just go with that. Also, many apologies again for another long wait. I’ve had nonstop homework for the last month and a half, and life decided to kick down my door a few days after the last update. *sigh* I hate being a junior. Forewarning, this chapter is episode heavy, with me tweaking reactions and gestures in between dialogue to fit with my plot. AKA this is a LONG chapter. Anyway, enjoy!

 

 

    Dean blinked when he found himself in the middle of a clearing, trees surrounding them on all sides. He jerked his shoulder out of the angel’s grasp and walked a few paces away. Turning to Castiel, he gave him a questioning look. “Dude, what the heck?”

 

    “Something, something important, is bothering you. It’s not just Sam, and it’s not just me.”

 

    “I’m--”

 

    “If you tell me you’re fine one more time, I will drop you on the top of the tallest tree here and leave you there. You are not fine.” Dean huffed testily.

 

    “It’s just that… Lately, I’ve gotten this weird deja vu feeling. But, not the normal kind.” Castiel did that adorable little head tilt of his.

 

    “I don’t understand.”

 

    “I feel like I’m reliving things, but there’s something off with my memories. They don’t feel 100%... like they should.”

 

    “You think someone’s altered your memories?” the angel asked in concern.

 

    “I don’t know. They feel real, they’re clear as day, but they don’t feel _right_.”

 

    “How so?”

 

    “Well, I first noticed it that night I called out to you. Our conversation a little while back didn’t feel right. Then, there was the case with the Qareen. It was Amara, but…” Castiel’s confusion grew.

 

    “But?”

 

    “But it should’ve been you,” Dean answered. “I remember seeing her, and then my vision went all blurry when I started remembering stuff. It was you, and it was saying all these things about you “being involved in some bigger plot than I could ever predict” or something. I wake up, and Amara is staring back at me, saying it doesn’t matter about who she is and that… something.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know what’s real at this point.” The angel looked away at the mention of a Qareen taking his form in front of Dean, trying to appear stoic.

 

    “Are you sure you weren’t… imagining things or--”

 

    “No, Cas! I’m not going crazy, I’m not hallucinating. Either something is wrong with my memories or…” Castiel approached him slowly. He raised a hand hesitantly.

 

    “May I see?” Dean looked away, nodding. Pressing two fingers to his forehead, the seraph was pulled into Dean’s mind. He looked for their heated conversation at the bunker that had been brought up. There were two sets of memories: one ending in a rather hurtful shouting match, and the other being the one he remembered. He sifted through Dean’s mind for other memories, the Qareen memories being how he described. There was, however, another memory, one that, from what he could tell, was of something that hadn’t happened yet. Curious, he tried to view it. He saw flashes of things, heard bits and pieces of conversation. He saw himself, no, Lucifer, glaring down at the boys.

 

    “ _How dare I? How dare_ **_you_ ** _… You have the nerve to act like you care about them…_ ” The view switched to Dean straining to hear a conversation between Lucifer and Gabriel, who were struggling with each other out in the hallway.

 

   “ _… I still win… watch and feel your own soulmate die… at the hands of your own blade._ ” He watched as Gabriel’s archangel blade flew threw the air headed straight towards Sam’s heart. He watched the other three scream in agony as they could do nothing about it. Then, time seemed to slow down, the blade merely inching along in the air, Gabriel the only thing moving at normal speed before he disappeared completely and Dean’s vision went black.

 

    “Cas?!” Dean exclaimed when the angel gasped, eyes snapping open, panic rolling off him in waves. “Hey! What did you see?” Castiel took back his hand and stepped back.

 

    Breathing shakily, he replied, “Time travel. Someone… Someone time traveled in one of your memories. That’s why you’ve been getting this strange feeling.” Dean looked at him wide-eyed.

 

“Time travel? Did you see who?” Castiel shook his head.    

 

    “No, I couldn’t see their face,” he lied.

 

    “Great. So, a rogue angel?”

 

“Most likely.” Dean had his head in his hands.

 

    “Great, just great. And you can’t go back and stop it?”

 

    “That would only further change time and endanger us all. All we can do is hope that nothing is too different from the original timeline.” They were silent for a minute. “We should get back to the bunker. No doubt Sam will be worried, if he isn’t angry that we left him.”

 

“And whose fault is that?” Dean retorted. Castiel gave him a look.

“I wouldn’t let you go back in the mood you were in… And we hadn’t talked in awhile, so I thought it might be a good time to…” Dean nodded absentmindedly.

 

    “And what about you?” he asked, eyeing a few hardly healed cuts. “Are you doing okay?”

 

    “I’m as okay as I can be given the circumstances.” Without another word, Dean found himself in the bunker at the bottom of the stairs, Castiel nowhere in sight.  

 

XxX

 

    Castiel found himself staring at Lucifer in his mindscape, in the bunker’s library this time, books strewn across various surfaces. “So,” Lucifer began. “You’re telling me… that someone screwed with time before I could kill Sam. Now, we’re here, waiting for the inevitable event to happen again, but with a different result.” He said everything as a statement, not asking about anything.

 

    Castiel, uncomfortably, replied, “I believe so.” Lucifer smiled slyly.

 

    “Whelp,” he started, clapping his hands together, “That settles it then.” With a wave of his hand, he threw Castiel against a row of bookshelves. The seraph crashed on the other side of the room after impact. Lucifer grabbed a wing in each hand in case Castiel got the idea of trying to escape. He screamed as he felt his wings bending in ways they shouldn’t bend. “How do I know,” Lucifer growled into his ear lowly, “That it wasn’t **you** that went back in time, hmm?” He felt a bone beginning to break underneath his fingers, Castiel’s volume increasing.

 

    “W-With you possessing m-me?” the angel pointed out before his face was shoved into the floor. Lucifer considered this.

 

    “You’re right,” he admitted nonchalantly, letting him go. The seraph groaned from his position on the floor. He gingerly stretched his wings, hissing as that jostled the newly injured bone in his left wing, his right only a bit more sore than comfortable. “ _Oops,_ ” Lucifer told him, annoyed. “You know, I wanted things between you and Dean to work. I still do, actually. Thing is though, it’s so… sickening… being in the backseat to all of your little side missions and personal interactions. Those rogue angels could’ve gotten us both killed because of your recklessness. Then,” he said, shivering, “The kissing and… Well, I can’t fault you for the wing kink, but still.” He patted Castiel, who glared, on the head, just resisting to say, “Good doggie.”

 

    “You don’t have to listen in on--”

 

    “Oh, but it’s different. If this were a fling or something? Sure, I could probably block out everything, but this is soulmates we’re talking about here. Everything registers on a much deeper level, and it makes. Me. _Sick_.” He put his hands up. “It’s not my business though, and that’s not what I wanted to talk about anyway. After this… whoever it was went back in time, Michael escaped the Cage. Do you know how?”

 

    “No,” Castiel responded, pained. “I observed Dean’s memories, and they only play out until the angel disappears.” Lucifer narrowed his eyes.

 

    “And you’re **sure** that you didn’t see their face? Nothing?”

 

    “Positive.” Gabriel had went back in time, freeing Michael in the process because of a changed event perhaps? Or did he free Michael himself? Regardless, the real question is why? What could he possibly hope to achieve by freeing Michael? If anything, he’s only jeopardized their mission of sorts even more. Lucifer didn’t seem to 100% believe his answer, but accepted it nonetheless.

 

    “Alrighty then,” he said, unsure. “Ya know, Michael being out might not be such a bad thing… I could work with it actually.” Castiel eyed him suspiciously as a smile tugged at the corner of the Devil’s lips. It was a touch maniacal, but there was something softer there as well that he didn’t quite understand. “We could use this to our advantage.”

 

    “How?”

 

    The only thing he got was, “You’ll see.” His world went black.

 

XxX

 

    In the few hours that had passed since Cas’s departure, Dean had downed a couple of beers as his thoughts continued to move at a frightening pace. He eventually took a seat in the nearest chair he could find, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Why was this happening? What was even going on anymore? He couldn’t trust his memories or himself, and then there was Sam to worry about (again) on top of all the rogue angel and Amara stuff. What the Hell are they supposed to do when a new problem is arising every time they turn around? Before he could think anymore pessimistic, hopeless thoughts, Sam emerged at the top of the stairwell, shutting the bunker door quietly behind him. Dean looked up until they met each other’s gaze, Sam coming down to join him in an adjacent chair.

 

    “So…” he began, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know whether Dean wanted to talk to him right now, and he really didn’t want to push his luck. Dean, however, seemed almost relieved at his presence.

 

    “I’ve got so much to tell you, Sam. It’s… Things are really messed up.” His brother raised an eyebrow.

 

    “Can things get any more messed up than they are?”

 

    “Haven’t you learned not to ask that anymore? Of course they can! And this… This is major, on rogue angel levels bad. As in rogue angels time traveling and potentially screwing us all levels bad--”

 

    “Wait! Hold on. Time travel? A rogue angel **time traveled**?! How do you even--”

 

    “It doesn’t matter,” Dean snapped. “What does matter is that you’re not bleeding out in the bunker with an angel blade sticking out of your chest.”

 

    “Angel-- Is this what you and Cas flew off to talk about?” Sam asked, trying very hard not to be overly frustrated at the current situation.

 

    “It’s complicated, but yeah, I guess. Seriously though, where the Hell is Gabriel? Couldn’t he look into this more?” He hadn’t meant to try and change the subject, but the archangel’s missing presence had become more and more noticeable by the minute. Ever since Cas had mentioned the huge angelic power surge he’d felt, Gabriel was nowhere to be found. That’s not even taking into account Sam’s longing, lonely staring, his brother burying himself in a pile of books all day, coffee cup or beer bottle always by his side… And really, he’d know more about this kind of thing, right?

 

    “I haven’t seen him since he left. I didn’t ask where he was going, but if something happened to him I would’ve felt it. Wherever he is, he’s fine.”  He knew he didn’t sound 100% confident in his answer, but if something had happened, he would **know**. He would. “Regardless of that, I think I’ve got a lead on a Hand of God and where to find it. More specifically,” Sam stated, “When.”

 

    “… When?” Dean questioned nervously. He internally groaned as he examined the gleam in Sam’s eyes. Yep, he heard that right. He sighed, before reluctantly saying, “I’ll need a drink before we get started.” Sam noticed the stress Dean’s body language portrayed and how tired they both were. Now was not the time for them to delve too deep into this.

 

    “We can talk about it in the morning.” Dean had never looked more relieved.

 

    “Alright. I’ll still need that drink though, and some coffee.”

 

XxX

 

    Michael sat atop the roof of HQ, legs dangling over the edge, arms at his sides, gaze thoughtful, overlooking a cliffside with a great view of all of outside Heaven. His mind wandered to the battlefield below him as he watched angels honor their fallen brethren, cleaning up their unnecessary mess. So, the Winchesters and Castiel once again created a world ending situation for everyone to try and survive. Typical. What intrigued him the most was how Castiel’s name was thrown around by both sides. Was he truly the cause of all this tension? He would ask Gabriel when he got the chance. Before he could retreat inside, two pairs of wings sounded behind him. Silently sighing, he stood and turned around, finding two angels glaring at each other before looking towards him.

 

    “Yes?” he asked them both, trying to keep the tiredness out of his voice.

 

    “Mi'lord,” the lower ranking angel began, “I don’t mean to disturb you. However, both sides have agreed to send representatives to explain the… current situation.” Michael eyed both of them warily. He sensed no ill intent, so he nodded for him to continue. “I came here to speak on behalf of the side that supports Castiel and the Winchesters--”

 

    “And I’m here to to represent the side that is loyal to Heaven,” the other, higher ranked, angel interrupted, causing the other angel’s glare to intensify. The two began bickering, and Gabriel decided to chime in.

 

    ‘ _So Team Free Will and Team Real Life are a thing up here too? When did that happen?_ ’

 

    “What are you talking about?” the archangel murmured to his brother. The two angels immediately ceased their arguing, thinking he’d addressed them.

 

    “Nothing, milord.” Michael’s focus snapped back to the current conversation.

 

    “And what have you to say on the current situation?” Michael inquired. Team Real Life’s stand in spokesangel spoke up.

 

    “This won’t end until Heaven comes to a decision on who to support. The fighting was simply to weed out any non-loyalists--”

 

    “Then why not simply banish them? You have higher authority then many. Surely you could’ve found a way to “weed out” those who disagreed with you with less violent means.” They looked down and away from Michael’s stern gaze.

 

    “What I propose is something a bit less harmful,” Team Free Will’s spokesangel piped up. “I was, well, **we** , were thinking that it would be much safer to ask **you** who we should--”

 

    “I have no love for the Winchesters, but as much as I’d like to smite them both, I won’t. However, I cannot support Heaven’s cause either. You slew each other like savages, and though we are warriors of Father, we were not meant to fight each other. My favor will not come into play in this situation.”

 

    “But--” They shut their mouth after a warning glower.

 

    “I will not choose a side here. I don’t know enough about what’s going on, nor do I wish to cause an uproar.” _In this current state_ , he almost added. “Keep your groups apart,” Michael replied after a moment. “Find a way to coexist while I reacquaint myself here.” With nods, they disappear in flaps of wings. The blonde blew out a breath, eyes flashing briefly as he flew back into HQ. From there, he met with several of his most loyal supporters, gathering information on everything he had missed since his time in the Cage. The amount of information was shocking, the details even more so. Had he really missed this much? Had he really been a pathetic mess in the Cage for **that** long?

 

    ‘ _Trust me, when I came back, it was like going to a whole ‘nother world. People I knew were gone, prophecies were out the window, supernatural creatures were around every corner. It’s gonna take time to process everything and readjust._ ’ Gabriel felt for his brother, returning to a place that’s forgotten your existence until you suddenly show up, where many things have changed for both better and worse, where societies have either adapted or evolved. The experience was jarring to say the least. A sigh.

 

    “I know.” He swept his eyes over the room he was currently in. Seraphim and normal angels alike mingled, though it was clear that both sides still held a grudge. Things were as peaceful as they would get at the moment however, and for that Michael was grateful. His downcast gaze drew the attention of Ameliel, an angel he’d spent lots of time with just after the Fall. She was quiet, always calculating, scarily perceptive; she noticed things others missed with ease, heard things others didn’t.

 

    “Everything alright, Michael?” she questioned, a hint of worry evident in her voice. He gave her a small smile.

 

    “It will be.” As soon as he said that, the chatter around him hushed as an angel who looked a bit worse for wear came stumbling into the room, less than pleased and deathly pale. Of course he’d spoken too soon.

 

XxX

 

    Dean awoke the next morning to find Sam already sitting at the kitchen table, per usual, an array of documents and books in front of him. First though, Dean needed coffee. As soon as he tried to pour some into his cup, Sam told him, “We’re out.” Dean put it down in disbelief.

 

    “There was a half a bag yesterday,” he snapped.

 

    “I killed it,” Sam replied, still immersed in his work. He looked up suddenly at his brother. “Hey, did you know the Nazis had a special branch devoted to archaeology?” Dean walked over to one of the shelves, looking for something to wake him up.

 

    “It’s a little early for Nazi trivia, especially _without caffeine_ ,” the older brother griped.

 

    “It was called the “ahnenerbe.” There were sights all over Germany, and then as the Nazis increased their territory, they started popping up in Poland, Finland, uh, North Africa.”

 

    Rummaging through the fridge, Dean commented, “Yeah, how is this more important than our coffee situation?”  

 

    “ ‘Cause I found something.  I mean, we _need_ something-- magic, a, a weapon strong enough to give us a shot against Amara. So, I’ve been looking outside the lore in history, and I found this. Uh, “The Vichy Memorandums.” They were Nazi communications that puzzle historians to this day, and they speak of a superweapon obtained by the ahnenerbe, said to be strong enough to win the war.” Dean now stood beside him, drowsy and doubtful.

 

    “Yeah, well what was it?”

 

    “Well, uh, these memos refer to it as,” he began, turning  the page in his book. “The Hand of God. I mean, that was sort of a catchall term for several objects he touched on Earth in biblical times, but they’re believed to contain traces of His power.” At least now they knew how useful these weapons really were. Dean just wasn’t having it right now.

 

    “Yeah, well, the Nazis believed a lot of things.”

 

    “Dean, Lucifer’s caged. God’s MIA. The only beings strong enough to battle Amara are gone. If we’re gonna fight a war, what better way to arm up than with an actual dose of His power?” There was silence for a moment before Dean spoke again.

 

    “Okay, so you said the Nazis got their hands on one of these, uh, … 'hands.'”

 

    “Right.”

 

    “Well, if it was so powerful it could win them the war,” Dean asked, taking a seat. “Why didn’t it?” He stole downed Sam’s cup on the table.

 

    “Because they lost it. En route to Berlin, it was stolen. The Nazis searched high and low for the thief, but they never found their prime suspect. Uh, here. Delphine Seydoux, French mistress to a high ranking Nazi, thought to be a French traitor ‘till she killed her German lover and made off with the weapon.” Dean shrugged, puzzled.

 

    “Allied spy? French Resistance?”

 

    “That’s what the Nazis thought, but their investigation led them to a different conclusion-- That she was _un femme de lettres_.” Dean gave an “In English, please,” face.

 

    “A woman of letters,” Sam clarified with a smile. They got up, looking through old volumes in the library, discussing how strange it was to see a Woman of Letters, but how the organization needed all the help they could get during the war as well. Sam ran a translation of Clifford Henshaw’s report from 1943, scoffing at Dean as he threw back a beer bottle.

 

    “Seriously? Dude, it’s, like, noon.” Dean seemed taken aback.

 

    “Uh, well, you drank all the coffee, so what am I supposed to drink? Water?” The gist of the report was that Henshaw had called in a few favors to get Delphine and the artifact back to the states, the bunker, in fact, in an active U.S. submarine.  

 

    “So it’s been here the whole time?” Dean questioned. Sam did a quick search.

 

    “No, never arrived.” The U.S.S. Bluefin came under attack from the Germans and had been sunk. The younger brother leaned back in his chair in frustration. “Great. It’s lost.” Dean had a thoughtful look on his face.

 

    “Or is it?” Sam looked at him as if the answer were obvious.

 

    “Yeah, I’d say so. I mean, the tides took the wreckage. Submersibles have been trying to locate it for years. I mean, if James Cameron and his “Avatar” billions can’t find it--”

    “Yeah, but we have something James Cameron doesn’t have.”

 

XxX

 

    “Dmitri,” Michael addressed the approaching angel, who looked like he’d “seen a ghost” as the humans put it. He was visibly shaking, angel blade slightly dripping with blood and a bit of grace. Michael narrowed his eyes, just about done with hearing news of slain brothers and sisters. Before he could ask, Ameliel almost read his mind.

 

    “How many?”

 

    “I’m the only one who got away,” he responded, giving her a grave look. He turned his attention back to Michael. “Michael, he’s on Earth, with the Winchesters.”

 

    “Who?” the archangel demanded, even though he knew the answer.

 

    “Lucifer. He… he wanted to send a message. He… he was possessing--”

 

    “Do you want to cause a mass panic with this many of us in a room? Keep your voice down,” she warned. Dmitri frowned.

 

    “Very well,” he muttered, voice now a barely above a whisper. “Lucifer is now possessing the traitor Castiel. I think it’s rather fitting.” Gabriel had some… not so nice things to say to him.

 

    “Be quiet,” Michael hissed to what looked like himself before redirecting his attention to the other angel. Dmitri fell silent after his last comment regardless. “You will not tell anyone of this, not yet.”

 

    “And when will they know? When will it be the right time to tell them?”

 

    With a tone of finality, Michael lowly stated, “I’ll know.” He swept out of the room, Ameliel close behind him.

 

XxX

 

    “There were several God-touched objects, but it never occurred to me that any had survived the flood, let alone the twentieth century.” Castiel addressed the boys with wonder, glad to be back, but at the same time, for some reason dreading something that would happen **soon**.

 

    “Do you think we can use it against Amara?” Sam inquired, tone on the edge of desperate.

 

    “It’s perfect.” As Sam and Dean exchanged looks, Castiel was struck with an idea. It was risky, and could give him away, but if it got them the hand, it would be worth it. His wings were currently indisposed, especially for such a journey. Lucifer’s on the other hand… “I can get you back there.”

 

    “Without wings? Cas, you can’t even teleport.” Upon Castiel’s insistence after Lucifer received the phone call in Hell, he’d flown back to the bunker with his wings… toppling right into Dean in pain, left wing tucked close to his being. “We can’t risk it, especially with you reinjured, which, how did that happen again?”

 

    “As I told Dean before, I had a deal with Crowley and he owed me a few favors, so Hell is at my disposal for the time being. Some demons were a bit… offended that the King of Hell would lend his throne to an angel, me specifically, and, as you would say, “got the jump on me.” They targeted my wings in the hopes that I wouldn’t be able to escape. Luckily, they were easy to deal with, and they didn’t do anything worse.” Back to the issue at hand, however. “Time travel though. Time travel is a, it’s a whole different system.”

 

    “Told ya,” Dean declared, snapping his fingers as he did so.

 

    “So, uh, these the last coordinates?”

 

    “That’s the bluefin’s last transmission to shore, yeah.”

 

    “Alright.”

 

    “Wait a second. Cas, aren’t there still risks with time travel? I mean, aren’t there consequences that--” Castiel turned around, looking annoyed, and Dean felt the same way, hitting the tabletop of the war room.

 

    “Sam, this is the ideal situation.”

 

    “What?!”

 

    “That sub is a tin can floating in the middle of the ocean, doomed to go down. You can’t really mess with history at twenty thousand leagues. So we get in, get the weapon, get out. It’s a milk run.”

 

    “Well, th-that’s not a-a very good plan.”

 

    “Well, if things get out of hand, then Cas’ll just zap me right back.” His soulmate gestured that he agreed. Sam raised his eyebrows, outraged that he was being attacked two on one here. Can he not wish for his brother to be safe for once in their lives? Was that too much to ask? And-- Wait. Zap **Dean** right back?

 

    “You?”

 

    “You’re not going.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

 

    “I beg your pardon?” The younger brother leaned forward in his chair, trying to get his message across the table.

 

    “You need to stay here--”

 

    “Stay here?”

 

    “Just in case things go sideways, somebody needs to be left standing to take care of the Darkness.” Sam looked like Dean had just lost his mind. Dean glared. “We can’t risk us both, and at the moment, I’m the least valuable player! You both know that I can’t kill Amara, so the least I can do is get the thing that we need so that you can.”

 

    “So you expect me to sit here and ride the pine while you and Cas go play Jules Verne?”

 

    “Yes! No. Uh, who?”

 

    “I won’t let him out of my sight,” Castiel promised, chiming back in with difficulty after Lucifer had surveyed the argument between the two with interest. Sam turned hopelessly to the seraph, bewildered by his change in behavior and judgement all of a sudden. Castiel was never this reckless, save their more recent diner encounter. Well, these were desperate times, weren’t they? He sighed resignedly.

 

    “You’ll stay by his side the entire time?”

 

    “I will.”

 

    “Sam… Let me do this,” Dean almost pleaded. “Okay? I need to do this.” Finally, Sam relented.

 

    “Be safe.”

 

    “When am I not?” Standing up, he said, “Let’s do this, Cas.” Exhaling harshly, he steeled himself. “Bon voyage.” In the blink of an eye, he found himself in the submarine, automatically noticing how very much alone he was. Well, that didn’t exactly go according to plan.  

 

XxX

 

    “Gabriel, you must learn to hold your tongue,” Michael scolded his baby brother, walking around in the rather unorthodox mindscape of a small town home. Why his brother would choose to spend his time here of all places--

 

    “This is Adam’s house. He’s usually in his room, staring out the window on his last day alive, the first time anyway. I’ve spoken to him, but I’ve also been listening in on your conversations.” His demeanor changed from contemplative to angry. “Dmitri is one mistake away from me throwing him down towards Luci’s old playground. I swear that that arrogant--”

 

    “Regardless of how we all feel about him, I don’t need your snide swearing filling my thoughts. I requested you keep quiet when I agreed to let you possess me. I expect you to at least try and uphold your end of the deal.” Before the other archangel could respond, a third body entered the room, looking shaken, but otherwise fine.

 

    “Gabriel, is there someone else in…” he trailed off, gaze lingering on Michael, stopping dead in his tracks. He wasn’t frozen in fear, not really. It was more unease and shock really. The last time he’d seen Michael was before being plunged into the Pit. After that, darkness. He was left mostly to himself then, still getting ghost feelings of what Michael was feeling at the time. A lot of it was small pinpricks of pain throughout his body, the tug on his heartstrings as hurtful things were shown and said. Hell had not been fun, but it definitely could’ve been much, much worse. “Michael,” he addressed the mirroring blonde.

 

    “Adam,” he greeted indifferently. “You look… well.”

 

    “You shielded me, in the Cage… Thank you.” The archangel narrowed his eyes.

 

    “Let me assure you that it wasn’t on purpose, but all the same, you’re welcome.” It was tensely silent after that, the three exchanging glances. Adam seemed to pale the longer the silence went on, as if expecting the worse. He wasn’t particularly fond of angels, with good reason. Gabriel jerked his head to the side, leaning his ear up as he heard the faint inkling of someone’s voice, eyes furrowed in concentration.

 

    “Someone needs you, Michael.” The older brother looked to him, examining his honey golden brown eyes, full of too much to decipher. “We’ll be fine. Go.” With a nod to them both, stare lingering on Adam for just a moment too long, he left, and Adam let out a relieved breath.

  

XxX

 

       Sam was petrified when Castiel came stomping back into the bunker, sloshing water all over the floor, scowling, _without Dean_. Apparently, the sub had been warded, most likely by Delphine. Lucifer, who had had just about enough of the Winchesters today, had seized control the moment Castiel had been propelled into the water. He only had so much patience after all. If Dean messed this up just because Castiel wasn’t around to play protector, he would be extremely pissed. At Sam’s behest, they leafed through several books, looking for something, anything, that would help break warding: spells, rituals, etc. At long last, it seemed Sam had finally found something useful, some “spell of gathering.”

 

    “Do you have the ingredients?” Lucifer asked, curious about this discovered incantation.

 

    “Uh… All but one.” He skimmed the passage quickly before he huffed, aggravated. “That’s why it’s never been used before. It requires the power of an archangel.” He flipped the book closed with a dejected smile. Lucifer contemplated his next words very carefully.

 

    “Well, Sam, we may as well try.”

 

    “We don’t have time for long shots, Cas. Even at full power, you’re not strong enough.” Sam got up, needing some time to think, while Lucifer remained sitting, sliding the book over and examining the incantation page. Looks like he had ingredients to gather.

 

XxX

 

    Michael came back to awareness to hear a commotion coming from HQ. His eyes flashed, and Gabriel flew them to the loudest room, where seraphs were gathered, panicked, raised voices echoing in the room. They quieted down at the sound of wings, looking to Michael with lost expressions. “Milord,” one of them began. “There’s-- Someone is time traveling. Can you feel it?” Michael reached out with his grace to the depths of time and space around him. Sure enough, there was a constant small ripple during the 1940s, a strange date to fiddle with.

 

    “Do we know why?” he asked. No one in the room answered him. Gabriel was uncharacteristically quiet, yet seemed to know something. ‘ _Spit it out_ ,’ he thought to Gabriel.

 

    ‘ _They’re looking for a weapon they can use against Auntie Amara, a Hand of Father. Sam mentioned one the last time we talked, so I can only assume they’ve found one in the past_.’ Of course it was the Winchesters. Who else would be reckless enough to attempt such a thing at a time like this?

 

    “Pay it no mind. For now, monitor any other strange occurrences on Earth: omens, phenomena, major death rates. Perhaps I’ll be able to pay my aunt a visit.” They nodded, atmosphere of the room now a little more calm. With a flash of his eyes and flap of wings, he was gone once more, returning to that same cliffside.  

    

XxX

 

    Dean was still trapped in that submarine. Who knows what’s happened, how history is being rewritten at the moment? Sam was on the verge of tearing his hair out before he saw Lucifer, a variety of ingredients laid out in front of him. He wasn’t doing what he thought he was doing, was he? Sam approached the angel.

 

    “Hey.” He peered down at the brain on the table and instantly regretted it. “Cas, what is that?”

 

    “It’s your spell of gathering,” the archangel replied flatly, adding another ingredient to the metal bowl.

 

    “Are you nuts?! You’re not strong enough, Cas. You could get hurt.”

 

    “You find a better option?” He began chopping something thinly, not even looking at Sam.

 

    “Well, no, but without a serious boost to your angel power, that spell won’t even work.” His voice cracked in panic and worry. He knew Cas would do anything for Dean, but this? Putting his life on the line was the last thing he needed right now.    

 

    “My strength may surprise you.” Sam was suddenly struck with an idea.

 

    “Wait a second. I remember Bobby told me, when you needed strength to retrieve us from the past, you used him to power up. You-- You touched his soul, right?”

 

    “That’s right. I did that,” Lucifer stated unsurely. “But that, that, uh, procedure, it can be fatal.”

 

    “Use my soul,” Sam demanded, absolutely sure about his request. “That way, maybe you’ll have enough power to wield the spell.”

 

    “That isn’t necessary.”

 

    “It’s worth the risk. Cas, Dean needs our help… I trust you.” Lucifer looked at Sam incredulously before failing to hold back a chuckle, busting out in quiet laughter.

 

    “What?” Sam asked, concerned.

 

    In a strange voice, the angel replied, “Oh, it’s just, I don’t-- I don’t need you anymore. I mean, Dean’s the one with the link to Amara. Why have I been trying to spare **you**?” Both Sam and Castiel felt a sharp sense of dread and alarm. “I mean, maybe it’s because… you’re like the girl who kept turning me down at the prom.” The Devil roughly grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt, shoving and holding him up against the wall. “I **will** touch your soul, since you asked so nicely, and I’ll use your spell to blast through the warding to retrieve Dean and the, um… Hand of God.” Sam wore a fearful expression, trying to squash down his panic. “And then when Dean comes back and he finds this place decorated with your guts, I will tell him the truth, Sam. I’ll just say, Dean--” Lucifer stopped himself, using Castiel’s voice and putting on a devastated face. “ _Dean_ , he knew the risks. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

 

    With as steady a voice as he could muster, Sam uttered, “Lucifer.”

 

    “In the flesh,” the archangel replied, lifted of his burden of playing the goody-two-shoes. With no further hesitation, he effortlessly reached through Sam for his soul, reveling in the power that coursed through him. How rejuvenating it felt! How the human’s screams were like music to his ears. Suddenly, however, a presence made itself known on the inside, with ferocity and anger. He pulled away, watching the Winchester slide to the floor with a groan. The air hummed with energy and grace, but he found it hard to tell this vessel what to do, struggling as he felt his control slipping. “Hello, Castiel.” The seraph had already let several things go wrong recently, and he wouldn’t ruin this, not if he had anything to say about it. Their last encounter, Lucifer has infused his grace with parts of the vessel to ensure that he could more easily control it should Castiel’s mind or emotions get out of hand. Now that Sam’s soul had healed the lower angel, however, he was putting up a lot more of a fight then he should be able to. He felt himself ripped from control.

 

XxX

 

    Michael cried out in pain as a pain he felt on the levels of his being ripped through his chest, like an angel blade doused in holy fire. Luckily, he sat alone on the cliffside, not another angel in sight. He tried to determine the source, but before he could, the pain dissipated as quickly as it had come. Strange, and worrying. “Gabriel?” he asked aloud. No answer. “Brother?”

 

    ‘ _I_ _’m-- Ah --I’m alright. It… It was Sam. Something’s wrong. We have to--_ ”

 

    “We can’t just go down to Earth because one measly human is in danger, even if it is a Winchester.”

 

    ‘ _You don’t understand! My soulmate could be dying right now, and you have the nerve to--_ ’

 

    “Soulmates? You and Sam Winchester? This is news.” For a moment, he sounded like an older brother would, intrigued and almost teasing. Now was not the time, however.

 

‘ _Yeah, okay, the secret’s out. Now if you don’t mind--_ ’

 

“I can’t just leave, Gabriel. They’ll notice that I’ve gone and they’ll get suspicious. Besides, you’d know if any lasting damage had been done to him. You’d be able to feel his life draining from him if he were dying.”

 

‘ _How would you know that?_ ’ the younger archangel asked, curious about the sudden intel.

 

“Let’s just say I… have experience with this sort of thing and leave it at that.” Gabriel quieted down after that, but now a question wracked his mind. Who was Michael’s soulmate?

 

XxX

 

    Sam attempted to pick himself up off the floor before the angel crouched down next to him. “No, no,” he muttered in panic.

 

    “Sam, it’s me,” Castiel gritted out, face pained, twisted in a grimace.   

 

    “Cas, _why_?” he groaned.

 

    “I wanted to be of service to the fight, and only Lucifer can beat her.”

 

    Brokenly, he asked, “You chose this? You have to fight, Cas. Eject him now!”

 

    “I can’t! It’s taking all my strength to keep him from killing you. And besides, we need him!”

 

    “No, Cas, we don’t.” Castiel squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Lucifer claw his way back into the driver’s seat, breaths labored. “We’ll find another way to stop Amara.”

 

    Shaking his head, he elaborated, “We need him to save Dean.” Realization lit up Sam’s face.

 

    “You can’t time travel.” The angel shook his head.

 

    “Only Lucifer can.” Sam, with a teary nod, told him to go. Castiel stumbled up and away from Sam. “Forgive me, both of you,” he whispered sincerely, before his face went blank, only to be replaced with an icy glare. In a whoosh of wings, he was on the submarine, being blinded by a woman whose body was radiating immense power. Before it could be unleashed, killing them all, he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, sending them back to the bunker.

 

    “Dean,” Sam gasped from the floor, “That’s not Cas!” In an instant, deja vu hit Dean like a trainwreck. The revelation, the anger, the pain in his heart. He turned to look at Lucifer, who wore a completely unapologetic smile.

 

    “Cat’s out.” With little to no effort, he heaved Dean across the nearest table, watching him crash to the floor with satisfaction. “Mm! I feel a burden lifted. You know, this whole “deep cover” thing, it just wasn’t, it wasn’t terribly well thought out. Donning this, this Cas mask, this grim face of angelic constipation? Just _ugh_ . And then, teaming up with you two? I mean…” As Lucifer monologued, Dean watched his brother pull a knife from behind his back, catching Sam’s eye as he sliced open his hand. This wasn’t his first rodeo, not with this memory, and Dean would not let any more harm befall his brother. He nodded. “I thought you boys were insufferable as mortal enemies. But working **with** you? Ugh. **That’s** the soul crusher.” As Dean stood, Lucifer forced him against the wall with a wave of his hands. “Why the faces, boys? You should be cheering. We have a common enemy. With this, she will be no problem.” Dean watched as Sam began writing the banishing sigil, and it pained him to do so. His mind was reeling and of all the questions he could think of asking, he came back to the same one. The question was not, however, why. “I mean, I will have killed you both by then, but still. Come on.” He unwrapped the artifact.

 

    “Wait.” The Devil’s hand paused. He looked to Dean with venomous wonder. “Before you decide to end the both of us, let me just ask Cas one thing… Please.” The Devil begrudgingly acquiesced, giving Castiel limited control of the vessel, only enough to speak and turn his head.

 

    “Dean.” Those sapphire eyes filled with grief and guilt, unable to look his soulmate in the eyes.

 

    “Look at me, angel.” Castiel turned his gaze towards Dean.

 

    “I need you to be honest with me. When… When you said yes, did you ever think of how it would affect us? Sam, me? Did you even think?” Dean’s voice was wrecked with emotion, and Castiel couldn’t find a way to answer dishonestly.

 

    “The only thing that went through my mind when I gave my answer… Was keeping you and Sam safe… No matter what the costs for me, because you are my soulmate, Dean, because Sam is family. It was my choice, and I will stand by it until either the situation is resolved… Or I die trying to resolve it… For Sam… For you.” Dean was sure he felt a tear slide down his cheek as Lucifer resumed control of Castiel’s vessel.  

 

    “Time’s up,” Lucifer told him in a sing-song voice.

 

    “No,” Dean implored as Lucifer closed his eyes and took the item in his hand with a look of calm confidence. “No!” Lucifer opened his eyes and stared with umbrage at the useless object he held. The brothers exchanged looks of fearful hope.

 

    “It’s kicked,” Lucifer snarled, turning to Dean as he began to speak.

 

    “Well, who’d have thought the Hand of God would turn out to be a one-hitter?” Lucifer, in a blind rage, tossed the former weapon onto the table before marching over towards Dean. Before he could reach him though, Sam pressed his hand to the sigil on the wall and, with a scream of pain, both angels were gone.  

 

XxX

 

    They all six sat alone, thinking of their significant other, of current events. Dean sat by the water, clutching the spent Hand of God, keeping Castiel in his thoughts, vowing to save him from Lucifer’s grasp. He refused to believe Castiel had done this for him, that he’d chosen this fate. He didn’t deserve this; Dean didn’t deserve someone who would do that for him. Sam sat in the Impala, looking skyward for Gabriel, aching for his warm smile and guidance, his kisses and comfort, his tricks and dessert habits, now more than ever with Lucifer’s return. He prayed to him, to tell him that he’s alright, that he was waiting for his return. Michael again sat on the cliff overlooking Heaven, staring off into the distance as a ripple went through Heaven. A change in the timeline, a small surge of angelic power. His thoughts drifted to Lucifer, of his whereabouts, his intentions, his… Gabriel sat in his own mindscape, temporarily disconnected to Michael’s thoughts. He kept worrying for Sam, even though he could feel that he was alright, that he was safe. He’d love nothing more than to wrap his wings around him and never let him go. Lucifer sat on Hell’s throne, mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He had failed in his initial mission, but, for some reason, his mind drifted to someone he hadn’t longed for in ages. Michael. He would visit Heaven soon, for more than one reason. And Castiel… He sat now in Dean’s bedroom inside of his head. He longingly clutched the sheets that smelled of him, that brought back memories of loving moments, that reminded him of that betrayed face he’d seen back at the bunker.

 

    Their longing for one another connected them, and soon, they’d all meet again.

 

 

Closing A/N: This was extremely episode heavy, and I’m sorry for my lack of original ideas here. Also, that unlikely-ish pairing I mentioned? Next chapter. Thank you for your continued support despite these long waits in between chapters, and you will see more of me soon, hopefully. :)  


	11. A Reunion and a Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *strolls onto AO3, whistling* Stops playing Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Links and rewatching the anime long enough to ACTUALLY post chapter before quickly leaving the room.

Chapter Eleven: A Reunion and a Plan

 

A/N: Guess who got a laptop for Christmas so that they can actually crank these out a tiny bit faster? This girl! This’ll be episode heavy, again; apologies, again. Picking up a bit forward in time where Crowley is in possession of the second Hand of God we see, and the aftermath of that scene. Anyway, a late Merry Christmas to everyone and an early Happy New Year, and enjoy the next chapter!

 

 

    Lucifer roared in frustration, yet another demon falling dead at his feet as he paced Hell’s throne room, grace leaping unchecked, vessel image flickering between Castiel and Nick. How dare that inferior, low-life, useless, king wannabe attempt to kill him! He took out one of his more clever and faithful demons as well. They don’t all come out as great as Simmons. He sighed, trying to reign in his anger. Oh well. If the pup got up to anything, he’d know. He had his sources; he had his ways. Still, maybe it’d be best to _not_ kill his labor force. After all, Amara was still out there, and he needed a way to find her. More importantly, he needed a plan when he finally did. The last Hand of his Father had been a bust, as had the one with Crowley, but there were still more out there, of that he was certain. What he was even more certain of was that the Winchesters would find it somehow; they always did. Rather than throwing a temper tantrum, he should be biding his time. He thought that as another demon found themselves being choked to death by some invisible force. He took a deep breath and heard them all gulp in air and sputter and cough.

 

XxX

 

    Crowley examined the Hand of God before him, the Horn of Joshua. The power emanating from it eclipsed even that of the Rod of Aaron, so it was probably safe to say that using it to beat the Darkness would be no problem. He pulled out his phone, calling Dean as he rewrapped the Hand and set it aside, making sure the warding of the room still held before leaving the inconspicuous, rundown building he hadn’t frequented in some time. No one would know to look there for anything he thought held value. He quickly ran through the street, trying not to be caught in the current downpour any longer than necessary.

 

    “What do you want, Crowley?” Dean growled on the other end.

 

    “Hello to you too, squirrel. I have acquired something that might just interest you boys. Something, I’m told, that you’ve been looking for for a while.” A sigh from Dean.

 

    “And that would be?”

 

    “A Hand of God I believe it was called.”

 

    “Uh huh. Nice try.”

 

    Disbelievingly, and testily, Crowley spat, “Are you not hearing me? I said I have in my possession the solution to our collective problems! You should be doing a jig!”

 

    Pouring himself a cup of coffee and moving from the room, Dean replied, “I don’t jig. Now, how do I know you even escaped Lucifer and he’s not making you say all this?”

 

    “Honestly, your cynicism is depressing.” He plastered himself to the wall of a building on the other end of the street, careful to stay out of sight of any demon or creature who might be looking for him. “Why would Lucifer force me to discuss the very means of his destruction?”

 

    “What are you talking about?”

 

    “A weapon-- one that channels divinity.” Quickly surveying the street, Crowley pales when he finds several demons with flashlights, scouring the streets on the side of a black van, ducking back out of sight with a breathy sigh. “Yes, powerful enough to help destroy a force like the Darkness,” he whispered into the phone before teleporting inside a building with a view, out of the weather. “Or Lucifer. Tell me you haven’t been searching for such a thing.”

 

    “A Hand of God? Of course we have.”

 

    “Thought as much. St. Louis. The old post office on Beekman.”

 

    “Crowley--” The former King of Hell lowered the phone and hung up, attention now fully on the demons below him. Four on the vehicle, two inside. With a bit of patience, and a lot of stealth, they would be easy pickings. Some hours later, after he’d dealt with those six and the other five in surrounding buildings, which were quite a bit more of a hassle, Crowley found himself in the agreed upon meeting place. He had his back turned to the Winchesters when they walked in.

 

    “Nice digs,” Dean called out as he and Sam ducked cobwebs and rotting wood beams. “The crypt keeper out of town?”

 

    “I’m lucky to be alive,” Crowley responded, turning around with an unamused look on his face, irked. “Lucifer had me trussed up like a dog in my own palace.”

 

    “ _Palace?_ ” Dean questioned, faking confusion. He dramatically acted like he realized something. “Oh, you mean the abandoned nuthouse.”

 

     “He kept me in a kennel!” The boys shared smiles. “He turned all his demons-- **my** demons-- against me. They scour the Earth, day and night, looking to kill me. He has to be dealt with!” Crowley hoped he kept the desperation out of his voice as he spoke.

 

    “So is this why you brought us here? Some lousy grudge match with Lucifer?” Dean looked unimpressed. He did not waste hours driving here just to hear Crowley complain about Lucifer being Lucifer.

 

    “Yeah,” Sam finally piped up. “Where’s this, uh, Hand of God you were talking about?”

 

    “I’m getting to that,” Crowley replied softer. “Your only hope of subduing Amara is to match the level of power she possesses.”

 

    “No kidding. And?” Dean griped.

 

    “And I have the Horn of Joshua.” The demon made sure to look as smug as he could.

 

    Sam blinked, saying, “Joshua. As in the Joshua that won the battle of Jericho.”

 

    “And I’m willing to entrust it to your capable hands.” Sam and Dean shared a look that clearly expressed that they weren’t falling for anyone’s tricks, and they certainly weren’t taking Crowley at his word. The smirk fell from Crowley’s face.

 

    “What? I just said I’d give you the thing.”

 

    “ _If?_ ” the brothers inquired in unison. Crowley internally scoffed.

 

    “Is this how you say thank you? You think these things glow on bloody _trees_?!”

 

    “Cut the crap, Crowley,” Dean told him, shaking his head. “With you, there’s always an if.”

 

    “Fine. I will give you the Horn _if_ you help me exorcise Lucifer from Castiel’s vessel and then return him, **immediately** , to the Cage.”

 

    Sam, with his “Easier said than done; are you serious?” face, asked, “Oh, that’s all, huh?”

 

    “Okay… And where is this horn?” While he wanted Lucifer separated from Castiel as much as-- actually, a Hell of a lot more than-- Crowley, he knew that would be no easy task, especially if this was all a bluff.  

 

    “Safely hidden, naturally.”

 

    “Crowley, even if we could exorcise Lucifer out of Cas, the Cage is damn near impenetrable. It took a spell from the Book of the Damned  to spring Lucifer, and Rowena hid the book.”

 

    “And we would need both the book and her to even have a shot,” Dean added.

 

    “Did I say this would be easy? No, I did not.”

 

    “Do you even know where Rowena is?” Crowley eyed Sam with a slightly sheepish look.

 

    “Rotting somewhere, I assume… Lucifer snapped her neck.” The brothers both had to suppress the urge to run over and strangle him. They listened to Crowley’s condensed version of events after they left Kenesaw, and then proceeded to argue over exorcising Lucifer out of Castiel **before** Amara was defeated. Dean refused to let his soulmate die, and Sam insisted that, if push came to shove, Cass would be making a completely voluntary and worthy sacrifice towards a good cause. After that, Crowley had had enough. “I would rather stick white-hot skewers in my eyes than listen to you two bitches bicker! I gave you the terms of my deal. If Lucifer’s not back in the Cage, the Horn stays hidden.”

 

XxX

 

    Jophiel was doing his usual rounds on Heaven’s lower HQ floors, soul checks. He’d been at this for the last hour, but he was thankfully on his last two doors for the day. Pressing a device against the door, he confirmed the soul resident was still in their respective Heaven. As he tried the next door down, the device didn’t respond, some strange interference in the air, and it took him a moment before he looked up and saw an angel who sent fear coursing through his very being, though he tried not to show it. “Lucifer,” he addressed the archangel in loathing surprise.

 

    “Jophiel,” he replied. He was currently leaning against the wall, a hand under his chin, observing the lower angel thoughtfully, who looked over his shoulder to confirm that he was indeed alone. “How’s it hangin’?” He held in a chuckle as the angel looked over his shoulder in panic. “Easy there.”

 

    Jophiel sniped, “So perfect. Castiel, Heaven’s most wanted, possessed by Heaven’s most hated.”

 

    “I come in peace. I just wanna be a part of the action again. I wanna lend a hand.” The angel saw something in Lucifer’s posture, a slight shift in movement, that set him off, panic clouding his judgement. He calculated his chances of escape: none. The least he could do was warn the others, right?

 

    “Brothers--!” was all he could get out before Lucifer snapped his fingers, Jophiel no more than a fading mini cloud of glowing dust. He blew out a breath and headed down the hall, towards one of the meeting rooms near the center of HQ. This was about to be fun. Strutting down the hall, trench coat billowing behind him, a smirk etched on his face, he kicked open the door to the desired room, grabbing the attention of the group of angels within it.

 

    “Ahhh… Home sweet home. Look at all these _lovely faces_. Ya know, I’ve missed a lot of news while I’ve been locked up, but you know what I didn’t miss? The fact that Heaven targeted a new player in the game.” When no one responded, he continued. “ ‘Kay guys, so trying to smite the Darkness was a bust, hmm?” He walked around, observing everyone. “Even all the power of Heaven behind you couldn’t even slow the bitch down. Well, no need to feel like abject losers. You learned a valuable lesson here.” He paused dramatically. “You need me.” He looked around to find nervous angels averting their gaze from him. “Alright. Not giddy with awe.”

 

    The fledgling who seemed to worship Michael upon his return on the battlefield piped up, “You exploded Jophiel.”   

 

    “Or did Jophiel explode himself?” he asked the fledgling, pointing to him with a hand on his hip. “Just sayin’.”

 

    Another angel, the one who had doubted Michael upon his return, piped up, stating, “God cast you out of Heaven.” Lucifer gave an annoyed eye roll, turning to face him, voice slightly raised.

 

    “And who do you think spread **that** tabloid headline?” He stopped in front of the angel who’d just addressed him, leaning down so they were at eye level. “It was Captain G, the Eternal One, and why? Because I didn’t buy into his _obsessive, compulsive_ love for mankind.” He smashed their foreheads together with each emphasized word.

 

    “Mankind is his creation,” the fledgling pointed out. Lucifer stood back up.

 

    “Oh, come on! It’s not like he invented the Prius, which actually works.” He walks around the room, observing each angel, who couldn’t quite meet his eyes. Every step increased the tension in the air as they echoed throughout the room. “I don’t have to tell you people what a mess mankind is. The Salem Witch Trials, Third Reich.” He stops and fixes an angel’s jacket before continuing to move. “Twin Towers. And sure, every once in a while he’ll send a little plague to straighten them out. It’s nothing permanent. Humanity brought us Hiroshima and got a redo. I merely questioned His priorities and got the boot,” he finished, leaning over a table at them.

 

    The other angel from earlier stated quite bluntly, “You’re evil.” Everyone looked to him as if he’d lost his mind, then to Lucifer for a reaction. Lucifer didn’t look the least bit offended or angry, more bored than anything.

 

    “Incarnate,” the fledgling added, “Evil incarnate.”

 

    “It’s marketing,” Lucifer threw out. “He’s creating a need,” he began, pointing to his head, “In the consumer’s mind.” He gave an understanding look. “Can’t be a super savior if you don’t have a super villain.” A female angel, who looked to be weighing her options, spoke.

 

    “What are you offering?” Lucifer turned his attention to her.

 

    “Well a way out of this pickle.”

 

    “And by pickle, you mean the Darkness,” the other angel stated somewhat unsurely. Lucifer inclined his head, sometimes forgetting about the other angels’ lack of exposure to human jargon.

 

    “You can reason with her?” the female asked, slightly optimistic.

 

    “Well, I doubt that… But I can lock her away, this time for good. Done it before.” He felt a sense of satisfaction when they all turned to each other, disbelieving. “Oh, pops didn’t tell you that, huh?”

 

    “Once you’ve gotten rid of her, you’ll want to… stay around?”

 

    “I like the way you think,” Lucifer replied with a falsely sincere look. Another female angel glared at the fledgling and his question. “Man, am I jazzed!” Lucifer claimed, clapping his hands together with a smile. “Hey, if it makes you comfy, ‘could call **me** God.”

 

    “Absolutely not,” a voice spoke without hesitation. Everyone’s heads whipped towards the room’s door to see Michael, bruises faded somewhat, clad in a jacket, shirt, and jeans, staring determinedly at his brother. Lucifer smiled genuinely, eyes and tone of voice softening at the sight.

 

    In a quieter voice, he responded, “Hello, Michael.” The eldest brother said nothing, making the angels wary and nervous. They expected the two to come to blows. Instead, Michael’s eyes and tone softened as well.

 

    “Lucifer,” he spoke softly, though sternly to keep up his facade in front of the others, eyes expressing everything he couldn’t say in their presence. “You act as if you’re the only archangel here, like it was you alone who helped Father seal away the Darkness. You alone cannot defeat her--”

 

    “Which is why I’m trying to rally the troops, but they don’t seem too willing to fight the good fight.”

 

    “They don’t take orders from you. They are under my command, so if you wish for our aid, I suggest you talk to me.” A tense silence followed, each angel waiting with bated breath to hear the response. Lucifer had looked away, contemplating his next few words. Finally, he looked up and met Michael’s gaze.

 

    “How about we talk right now, just you and me? No fighting this time.” Michael’s expression remained the same, until it seemed like he was holding back a smile.

 

    “Follow me then,” he answered, eyes flashing as he vanished from the room, Lucifer disappearing right after him. When they reappeared, they were sat on the edge of a grassy cliff overlooking HQ, the battlefield, and the Garden, a few feet away from a silently roaring waterfall. A white blanket of clouds surrounded the mountaintop a few miles above their heads, evening sunlight and warmth filtering down through them. They were back to back, Lucifer cross-legged in the grass, Michael with his legs dangling over the cliffside; it was their special spot still to this day. They stayed silent for a time, just taking in the sights and sounds of what used to be normal for them. “I never stopped coming here, you know. Even after you were gone, something just drew me back.” Lucifer chuckled softly.  

 

    “You still love me,” he murmured.

 

    “You’re my brother. I never stopped--”

 

    “That’s not what I mean and we both know it.” He reached out to Michael’s grace with his own in a silent plea. Michael, hesitant at first, eventually accepted, almost sighing in relief at the familiar, long missed feeling. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back as a shiver went down his spine.

 

    “I do,” he replied breathily, “But you know that’s not how this ends. We can’t.” Lucifer looked almost hurt at the statement.

 

    “You said that the last time it was just us. We rebelled against destiny--”

 

    “And look what’s happened since then!” Michael retorted, serene manner broken. “Leviathans, the fall of the angels, the Mark of Cain, Amara, all happened after we were gone. If one of us had been killed to complete the Prophecy--”

 

    “Then we both wouldn’t be here now with a second chance. Please, Michael,” he begged, turning his head and taking one of his hands. “Don’t--”

 

    “Even if… I reconsidered,” Michael began, voice once again soft, “The world could end on our watch without Father and Raphael here to help us again.”

 

    “How is that **our** problem? She’s not attacking us.” Michael scowled, turning to look him dead in the eyes.

 

    “That’s what got you exiled in the first place, brother.”

 

    “Are we gonna start this again? May I remind you that you’re the one who--”

 

   “I asked you to be here so that we could discuss the Darkness situation. If push comes to shove, can we count on you… and your demons, to help?” Lucifer looked away, seeming to consider it.

 

    “As long as I’m in power and at an advantage downstairs… Just say the word.” That brought a grin to the blonde’s face. Before he knew what he was doing, he was completely turned around, leaning in towards a surprised Lucifer. The Devil leaned in as well, and before either of them knew it, their lips were moving desperately together in their first real kiss since the Fall. He, though he would never admit it, whimpered quietly at the emotion he could feel through Lucifer’s grace. Lucifer cupped his face, while Michael had one hand in his hair and one in his shirt.

 

    Gabriel, blissfully unaware, felt a spike in Michael’s heartbeat, usually neat and orderly mind going a mile a minute, more happy than he’d been in millennia. He paused his conversation with Adam, who was gingerly touching his lips, breathing accelerated. Tuning in, and regretting it instantly, he recoiled in shock, as did Adam, who didn’t know whether to be horrified or angry that his body was being used in this way. “Michael!” Gabriel shouted, almost reprimanding him. At the same time, Castiel tuned in after a curious sensation swept through his mindscape, pleased, longing, and desperate. He gaped as he watched **Michael and Lucifer** make out like lovesick teenagers, Michael now practically sitting atop Lucifer’s-- **his** \-- lap. For one, any sexual situation involving him would **not** have him in position as the bottom. But importantly, oh Chuck. Lucifer was kissing Michael, holding him, **_with Castiel’s body_ **. Oh. Hell. No. That. Was. Not. Happening. Viciously, he attacked Lucifer mentally, coinciding with Gabriel’s shout. Both archangels pulled away, hands on their heads in pain, a bit of distance between them now.

 

    “Castiel,” Lucifer told Michael as he looked to him in concern.

 

    “Adam,” Michael replied, not quite sure Lucifer should know about Gabriel’s presence at the moment. They both blushed heavily. “We should probably return.”

 

    “They won’t miss us. Besides, it would be entertaining to listen and watch them stress and worry over whether we plan on killing each other or not.” Michael fixed him with a disapproving gaze, but made no effort to move.

 

    “I suppose there’s still much to discuss with one another.”

 

    “There is… How did you escape the Cage?” Michael paled, Gabriel sucked in a panicked breath, and Adam froze. The three knew the question would arise, but not how to answer. Lucifer showed no signs of suspicion, however, only genuine curiosity and concern. “I couldn’t reach you. All I could do was listen to your screams and pleas… While I might have relished them at first, my anger still fresh from the fight in the cemetery, I grew… concerned.” Michael observed the now haunted expression on his brother/soulmate’s face. “No matter how high I flew, how long I searched, how many times I called or reached out, I. Couldn’t. Find you.”

 

     “The Cage has its ways of punishing I suppose,” Michael replied, glad for the redirection of the conversation, but also dreading any other questions Lucifer might have. “I… tend to lose my sanity if I try to dwell on that time too much.” Lucifer nodded, eyes on the ground in front of him.

 

    “I’m sorry--”

 

    “Stop,” Michael commanded. “There’s nothing you could have done. You did not cause me any pain, nor were you responsible for my being there. I was tortured by my own demons… I suppose Father did us a favor, separating us before we could tear each other part while our fury directed at each other was unchecked.”

 

    “You’re healing remarkably well,” Lucifer told him after a few minutes of silence, gesturing the the fading bruises and pink scars visible.

 

     "I’m out of that wretched prison and back in our home--”

 

    “Your home.”

 

    “--Where my powers are strongest and I can draw energy and grace from the environment surrounding me.” He frowned at Lucifer’s correction, but continued speaking. “And you look as well as you always do, though your choice of a vessel is… Interesting.” His frown deepened, still remembering being molotoved by holy oil by that, that--

 

    “He volunteered. How could I say no?”

 

    “And the Winchesters? Castiel is a valued ally of theirs. How did they react?”

 

    “As expected. One was shocked while the other looked betrayed, but don’t worry. I’ve got plans playing out as we speak, and the payoff is exactly what we need: one Hand of Father and Amara.”

 

    “Want to let me in on said plan?”

 

    “Crowley isn’t as careful as he thinks he is. I have demons following his every move. He has connections and resources that will lead him to a Hand. From there, it’ll depend on who he calls on for assistance and where, but he’ll find a way to summon Amara. That’s when I’ll swoop in--”

 

    “And use the weapon to destroy her,” Michael finished. He looked doubtful. “And you assume this will work?”

 

    “Of course it will.” Even with the fully confident reply, Michael remained skeptical. “Just trust me, Michael.”

 

    “I will try.”   

 

    A short time later, Michael found himself watching Lucifer interacting with the rest of the angels. He shook his head at his brother’s antics, but froze when he felt a power surge, distant, but approaching. A moment later, Heaven shook, lights briefly going out, causing everyone to stumble to a halt where they were. He and Lucifer shared a look, backing towards the conference room from earlier. They stood at the door, watching others scramble towards them as a wave of pure, but harmless, darkness raced towards them. Air whipping around them, it blasted them back, throwing angels every which way. Lucifer grinned widely at the chaos around him while Michael seemed worried, the whispers in the dark wave promising nothing but destruction. When all had calmed and everyone was back on their feet, Lucifer prattled on about how they needed him, and Michael just kept from rolling his eyes, then frowned to himself. Gabriel was rubbing off on him it seemed. The other brother in question was shocked at Amara’s quick recovery, as was Castiel, who silently urged the Winchesters to devise a plan and put it into motion **soon**.   

 

XxX

 

    “The crux of your dispute is your contention that Lucifer, and **only** Lucifer, can use the Horn to beat Amara, right?” Crowley asked.

 

    “You got it,” Dean answered.

 

    “Well, there are two things you must realize then. The first is that Lucifer won’t use the horn without you giving him something in return. As you said about me earlier, there’s always an if. I don’t see how you’ll get him to cooperate otherwise, seeing as how he’ll ask for something _you_ deem outrageous and will deny him. You have a perfectly useful archangel already on your side who I’m sure would _love_ to help you--”

 

    “Gabriel’s MIA. That idea won’t go anywhere. He’s been radio silent for the last week,” Dean interrupted, leveling a hard look at Sam, who’s gaze was trained on his shoes.

 

    “Oh really? Weren’t you three,” Crowley began, pointing to them, “All “buddy buddy” with each other the last time I saw you, or did you call in a favor?”

 

    “He has nothing to do with this and that is besides the point,” Sam hissed. Crowley looked taken aback before his lip curled in a snarl.

 

    “Secondly, that scenario only works if you actually _possess_ said horn, which you do not.”

 

    “No, we do not, but you do, so--!”

 

    “Exactly! **I** do! This isn’t a negotiation. I have the high cards, and you have-- Hold on. Give me a second. Let me have a look-- No cards!” the former King of Hell fumed, furious. “My offer stands.” Dean, tired of the back and forth, made his way slowly towards Crowley.

 

    “When we sprung Lucifer from the Cage, we had Rowena and the Book of the Damned, both of which we will need to put him back in the Cage, both of which are gone.”

 

    “Guys.”

 

    “Back to you.”

 

    “Guys,” Sam called again, drawing attention to the words carved into a wooden crate. _Back from the dead, Fergus_ , it read in all caps.

 

    “Well, problem solved,” Crowley directed at Dean, eyes looking over the two’s shoulders at the redhead walking up to them, a sly smile etched on her face.

 

    “Hello, boys. I overheard you saying you needed Lucifer to wield a Horn of Joshua to defeat Amara. Luckily for you, I happen to know a way to get them to you.” They looked to Crowley, who nodded. Reluctantly, they listened to her plan. One trip to an abandoned church later and the four were set up, warding written inside a ring of holy oil, Rowena observing from her spot and Crowley nowhere to be found. Just when the boys were going on about him not showing up, he appeared holding a covered Horn of Joshua, underwhelming, Sam commented on its appearance, before Crowley told him that first impressions can be that way, going as far as saying he considered Sam a boring moron upon their first meeting. After a little more bickering between them all, Dean began summoning Lucifer, Crowley now off to the side, out of the line of fire.

 

XxX

 

     _In nomine magni dei nostri Satanas, introibo ad altare Domini Inferi. I summon you to make an offer. The weapon by which its bearer can crush the Darkness forever._

 

    The two archangels had been walking through the halls of HQ, discussing possible battle plans should Amara appear in Heaven or target them. It was then Lucifer heard the whispers of Latin ascend from Earth. Before the English half of the summons was up, Lucifer quickly informed Michael of the prayer/summoning. “It has to be the Winchesters.” As he finished that statement, Dean mentioned a weapon to crush the Darkness, and, with a wink and promise to return soon, disappeared, startling an angel passing by them. He found himself in an empty church, standing in a circle no doubt covered in holy oil. As he suspected, the Winchesters were there, as well as two other presences, one he could see as Crowley, and the other a mystery. He raised an eyebrow as he found himself surrounded by a ring of holy fire, but perked up when he laid eyes on the Hand of God in their possession. Stating confidently that he could definitely defeat Amara with it, he looked to them expectantly.

 

    “Douse the flames.” They exchanged wary looks that made him suspicious and confused. “Or don’t?” Before he put the pieces together, Dean had cut his hand and pressed it to a sigil, making the spell underneath his feet glow. A surge of pain went through him, and he temporarily lost control of the vessel. Dean stepped towards the circle as a disoriented Castiel asked, “Dean?”

 

    “Cas.”

 

    “What are you doing? What’s-- What’s going on?”

 

    “Angel, listen to me. We don’t have a whole lot of time, okay? You have got to--” Suddenly, Castiel grunted in pain, vessel convulsing as Lucifer took back control, guffawing.

 

    “Uh, he’s got to what?” He sighed. “You boys… Ooh, you almost had me there for a minute, but these mail-order spells. They’re just not what they’re cracked up to be, are they?”

 

    “Cas, expel him! You’ve got to kick Lucifer out! You hear me?”

 

    “Honestly, I think he’s happy with the arrangement. I mean, he did invite me in and all, Dean.” The warding wouldn’t hold him forever, and the holy fire dimmed slightly every second.

 

    “Cas!”

 

    “ _Cas_!” Lucifer mocked. “Hand over the weapon. What do you say? Or we can just wait for this warding to fail… and I’ll take it.”

 

    “Bloody Hell,” Crowley exclaimed quietly, resigned, leaving his vessel and flying straight into Castiel’s. Those boys couldn’t do anything right, could they? Looks like he’d have to do this part himself. He found himself in a strange place, turning around to find the seraph fiddling with an outdated tv. “Castiel?”

 

     "Oh, Crowley. What are you doing here?” He sounded bored and uncaring, barely sparing the demon a glance.

 

    “Is this the Winchester’s kitchen?” he questioned, stepping further into the room.

 

    “Sort of. I come here in my mind to pass the time. For some reason, it has excellent reception.”

 

    “What’s wrong with you? What’s Lucifer done to you?” Crowley’s voice held concern. Was this really the rebellious seraph who would die for the world’s two most troublesome humans?

 

    “Well, he mostly just leaves me alone.” _Mostly, when I don’t do anything to anger him_ , he thought to himself. “I’m just waiting here, you know, for the battle with the Darkness.”

 

    “He’s really got his hooks in you. Snap out of it. Do you know what’s happening out there? The Winchesters have trapped the abomination so that you can expel him so _they_ can put him back in the Cage!”

 

    “Well that doesn’t sound like a very good idea.” Crowley scowled at his bored tone.

 

    “In your current state, you’re in no position to judge.” Castiel frowned, finally looking to Crowley.

 

    “Wait. That was Dean I saw a minute ago, wasn’t it?”

 

    “ ** _Yes_ **.”

 

    “And he wants me to expel Lucifer?”

 

    “ ** _Yes!_ ** ” Crowley had a hopeful smile for a moment… Until Castiel began laughing softly under his breath.

 

    “Well… He may have a more objective view of the situation. Maybe I should.” He was so… tired. He was so tired of the pain and all the times he’d been taken advantage of recently. Maybe he _should_ expel Lucifer. He had brought nothing but misery to them as of late. Then again, aside from the whole wing bending incident, what had Lucifer really done to him? Let Sam and Dean do what they will at this point.

 

    “So let’s do it now before it’s too late,” the demon urged.

 

    “It already is,” a voice drawled from behind. Lucifer, in Nick’s form, strolled into the doorway of the room with a frown and a sigh. “Really, Crowley? You want to put me back in the Cage?” He smiled then. “Well, I’m not going anywhere… And neither are you.” Lucifer proceeded to toss Crowley around like a ragdoll, smashing him into furniture and appliances, very nearly knocking over Castiel’s tv. The seraph didn’t seem to particularly mind, so long as they didn’t damage anything. They were inside his mind after all.He didn’t start actually paying attention until he heard the echo of Sam’s voice reciting an exorcism. Crowley silently thanked him as Lucifer tightened his grip on his throat, but dread quickly filled him when the Devil gave him an evil grin. When he finally returned to his vessel, he gasped in relief.

 

    “Useless,” he told them. “Lucifer’s hold on him is too strong.”

 

    It was then that the warding failed, the ring of holy fire extinguishing itself as Rowena cried out in alarm, “Lads, the fire!” She quickly darted out of sight as Lucifer came to. Lucifer was not amused that the boys had tricked him, pulling the Horn into one hand and slowly crushing their inside with another, satisfaction evident on his face until the windows behind them shattered in a burst of wind, shaking the church. Lucifer turned to find Amara stepping into the building, illuminated by the pale moonlight, observing him.

 

    “Oh, Lucifer. Dear nephew, my, how you’ve changed.” They all looked to her, the boys with anxiety and Lucifer with interest. She looked towards the spot where Rowena was hiding, telling them, “I was tracking her when she left my side.” The three glanced in her direction before looking back at Amara.

 

    “You were safely sealed away,” Lucifer told her with a shake of his head. “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed there.” As he said so, the Horn began glowing a molten orange, light of power floating in the air around it. Amara raised her eyebrows in a challenge at his words, but grew concerned as she saw power flood his vessel. Lucifer, with a confident smirk, raised his hand and a beam of power shot out at Amara, blinding Sam and Dean, wind whipping in their direction. Amara looked about to be consumed by the light when suddenly the flow of power stopped, and the light died away in seconds. The boys were in awe at the sight, though not the good kind, and Lucifer frantically looked between the now useless artifact in his hand and an annoyed higher being, who held out her arm to pull him towards her.

 

    He dropped the Horn as the boys looked on in concern, and as she cupped his face, she said to him, “I think you and I need to have a nice, long chat. Lucifer lowered his gaze in defeat.

 

    “Cas?” Dean called out desperately in a last ditch effort to bring his angel back to the surface. Castiel heard his soulmate cry out to him, but could only observe events resignedly, having made the decision to see his choice through to the end. Amara looked at a teary eyed Dean with sympathy, releasing him and Sam from Lucifer’s invisible grasp before turning back to her nephew with a serious expression on her face. In a flash of light, the two were gone, leaving two despairing hunters and a witch silently escaping out the back door.

 

XxX

 

    Back at the bunker, Sam and Dean sat across from each other, beers in hand. Discussing the situation. Sam attempted to apologize for forsaking Castiel and justifying his inevitable death if he continued to house Lucifer in his vessel. Dean waved him off, vowing to get his angel back and still defeat Amara, even though their initial plan had failed.

 

    “I thought Lucifer had a shot. Apparently, uh, archangel plus God power doesn’t trump God’s sister,” Sam stated, looking to Dean.

 

    “But if the thing has to be used by God’s chosen, then maybe an archangel who got the boot doesn’t qualify.” Sam raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement of the statement, but frowned when Dean gave him a knowing look.

 

    “Don’t.” He knew what was going to be asked, and he still didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know.”

 

    “Sam--”

 

    “Look, I don’t know, Dean, okay?!”

 

    “What do you mean you don’t know? He’s _your_ soulmate, and he’s been radio silent for weeks!”

 

    “I haven’t talked to him or seen him since the morning he left. I didn’t ask where he was going or what he was up to. All I know is that whatever he went to do wasn’t some walk in the park you could wrap up in five minutes.” Before he could add more, Sam doubled over in pain, as if his soul were being attacked by an ethereal sword, crying out in pain. Dean was on the floor, writhing and screaming, feeling as if his entire being was being doused in holy fire, slashed by angel blades, and ripped apart cell by cell. “Dean!” Sam exclaimed, crouching down as his brother collapses.

 

    ‘ _Sam?’_ he hears in his head, pained and slightly panicked. He knew that voice.

 

    “Gabriel?-- Aagh!-- Wh-What’s happening?”

 

    ‘ _I_ _’m sharing a vessel… as a healer, repairing the mental damage and… speeding up the physical healing. I feel… every bit of pain that they do, and since… you’re my soulmate, you feel all of my pain._ ’

 

“Dean is having a fit. I can’t get him to stop--”

 

_‘Amara has Lucifer… Some sort of… train yard by the looks of it.’_

 

“H-How do you--?”

 

_‘It’s a long story… but I’ll explain when we… get there.’_

 

“W-We?” Suddenly, as soon as the pain had started, it stopped, leaving a panting Sam and hoarse, twitching, tear-streaked faced Dean in a heap on the floor. “Dean?” Sam whispered. He got a deep groan of pain in response.

 

    “Torture in Hell is less painful than that,” he mumbled lowly, slowly testing the motion in his fingers. It was then that the sound of wings caught the brothers’ attention. Standing there, battered and slightly bruised, looking down at them with solemn eyes was--

 

    “Michael?” Sam asked, trying to squash down his panic of being injured and unarmed at the moment. The archangel shook his head.

 

    “Guess again, Samoose,” he replied quietly. The pet name sounded foreign in Adam’s voice. Dean’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and Sam let out an astonished breath.

 

    Emotionally, he whispered, “Gabriel?”

 

 

Closing A/N: FINALLY I’ve finished this (un-beta’d out of frustration and wanting it posted ASAP). It’s been fighting me tooth and nail for ages. So, um, not dead. Heh, hi, everybody. Second, that was your chapter of madness and crazy ideas. Proceed with the flaming. *sacrifices three duel monsters* … *summons and hides behind Slifer the Sky Dragon*


	12. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not beta read, per usual, and a bit of a mess. Hope you still enjoy though. Also, MY POOR GABRIEL IN CANON!

Chapter Twelve: Secrets

 

A/N: My Gabriel has returned in canon!!! *squeal* But what’ve they done to you, my beloved favorite character?! *slinks off to go seek retribution* Anyway, back in my little AU, Gabriel… You have lots of explaining to do. Also, take any and every Enochian word or phrase typed from here on out with a heap of salt. I know there are too few reliable translators around, so I did the best I could. Also also, please read the closing notes. That’s all. :)

 

 

    Sam shook his head, refusing to believe the sight before him. “Gabriel…” Dean, wincing as he sat up, reached for the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans with a shaky, weak arm. With a wave of his hand, Gabriel froze Dean’s arm in its tracks, a critical look on his--Michael’s? Adam’s?--face.

 

    “Please. Just… let me explain everything--”

 

    “Explain what, exactly?” Dean questioned, struggling to get to his feet. Bracing himself against the table, he attempted to push himself up, denying Sam’s offer to help. Panting slightly from the effort, standing on semi-steady legs, he continued. “You’ve been missing for weeks, haven’t said a word, didn’t even have the decency to let Sam in on whatever it was you were going to do. Then… You show up wearing **our brother** as a meatsuit and expect us to just, what, forgive you for up and disappearing?!” Dean shook his head angrily. “No. No, you don’t have the right--”

 

    “Dean,” Sam interrupted. “Just… Let him talk, alright?” Dean looked to him disbelievingly.

 

    “So that’s it? You’re just letting him off the hook?”

 

    “I’m not doing anything right now but trying to listen to what he has to say,” Sam answered, turning to Gabriel, Michael, Adam--whoever. Gabriel shrank in on himself at the cold tone of his soulmate’s voice. Sam turned his attention to Gabriel. “Talk.”  

 

    “It was when you went back in time to retrieve the Hand of Father. Lucifer tried to kill you with my angel blade, and there was nothing anyone would’ve been able to do about it. I was down, you two were frozen; you would’ve died. I did what I thought was a good plan at the time: I broke Michael out of the Cage. If you--”

 

    “Please,” Sam whispered, trying to steady his voice. “I-I can’t… listen to you talk with **his** voice in **his** vessel. Can you…?” Gabriel sighed before casting an illusion of himself before them, giving Michael back control of Adam’s body. Softly, he resumed his sentence.    

 

    “If you look at this big picture, Michael, me, Lucifer… and Castiel would be able to lock Amara back up if Dad ever came back and our first plan failed, which it has. Should Lucifer try to double-cross us, which I have no doubt he would given the right opportunity, Michael would be strong enough to put him in his place. After that, Michael could go back to leading Heaven and restoring order upstairs, the world would be safe, all of us would be safe, and life would go back to the way it was.” Sam, barely holding himself together, nodded.

 

    “Alright. That was your contingency plan. Now, explain to me where you’ve been and what you’ve done while you’ve been gone.” Michael answered before Gabriel could say a word.

 

    “After he removed me from the Cage, Gabriel possessed me, to heal me. I’m sure you could relate, Sam. You did a similar thing with Gadreel.” Sam frowned at the memories. “My left arm is still weak, but it’s not shattered anymore. I can walk now, without limping around with a broken right leg. My ribs are no longer broken, lungs no longer punctured, bruises mostly faded. The only two noticeable physical features still left to heal are my left ear and wings.”

 

    “Your wings?” Dean asked, anger dissipating after hearing the list of injuries Michael had previously sustained. “You were in the Cage when the Fall of the Angels happened. How could you mess up your wings?” Michael narrowed his eyes at him.

 

    “Did you think being thrown into the Cage was like a vacation for me? I was tortured, mentally and physically, for **centuries**. You’ve been there; you know the pain that one normally endures in Hell, but it was nothing compared to what the Cage had in store for me.”

 

    “The Cage--?”

 

    “Has a mind of its own sometimes. Inner demons, physical manifestations of your deepest fears and greatest enemies can appear there. They showed me no mercy.” With an agonized hiss, he unfurled what **should** have been his wings, but what instead looked like six splintered skeletal structures of wings, stray now grayed feathers and caked blood adorning them. The Winchesters saw the sixth wing, twisted backwards, bone protruding through a layer of feathers and flesh.

 

    “Holy--” Dean cut himself off, keeping his comments to himself. Sam looked horrified while Gabriel had to look away in despair.

 

    “As I said, my wings have yet to heal. I’ve been having Gabriel fly me anywhere I need to be, including around Heaven and here on Earth. While we were in Heaven we discovered that the angels were at war, split between a side that supports the two of you and Castiel and a side that claims to be loyal to Heaven and the Will of Father. I’ve been mediating, until Lucifer was captured by Amara.”

 

    “While I’ve been healing him, I’ve also kept ears out for Lucifer, any whispers from minor gods, angel radio, demons. After mending his bones and organs, I moved on to organizing and sorting through his mind, his memories from the past six years. I’m looking for false memories from the Cage and anything that could set Michael off. It was a slow process, but I made really good progress and I think I got everything. After he began feeling Lucifer’s pain as Amara tortured him, I begged him to let me fly us down here, to help… And it was about time I popped in to check on you two bozos anyway.” He threw in the last comment to try and lighten the mood, and he wasn’t sure if it was successful.  

 

    “That still leaves us with a lot of questions,” Dean pointed out. “Like  how did you two--”

 

    “We don’t have time at the moment to answer your questions,” Michael interrupted testily. “My concern is Lucifer and his whereabouts, his safety.”

 

    “That’s another thing: how could you feel that Lucifer was being tortured? I mean, with me and Cas, it’s because we’re soulmates. I can hear his thoughts, feel what he feels--”

 

    “See through his eyes,” Michael threw in offhandedly. Dean paused.

 

    “Wait, what? How? What?” Michael threw him a look that said, “Isn’t it obvious?” and Gabriel went wide-eyed.

 

    “No… It can’t be… You… and Lucifer?” Michael nodded solemnly. “How long have you known?”

 

    “When you were just out of your adolescent years, I think, when Lucifer stopped spending as much time with you for a while, remember?” Gabriel gasped, because he did remember that time, but Lucifer had told him that it was because their Father had requested something extremely important of him.

 

    “Does Dad know?” Gabriel inquired softly.

 

    “When does he **not** know something? Of course he knows.”

 

    “So you’re here to get our help in rescuing your brother, soulmate--whatever Lucifer is to you, right?” Dean asked.

 

    “I’m here because Gabriel flew us here and because Lucifer and Castiel both inhabit the same vessel. I know where they are, and I thought you and Sam would like to know as well.”

 

    “That’s his way of saying yes,” Gabriel answered Dean.

 

     "How exactly do you plan on rescuing Lucifer if Amara’s with him?” Dean questioned. “Even **you** aren’t enough of a suck-up to make her let him go.”

 

    “We’ll need a distraction,” Michael told him. “She’s taken an interest in you because of your previous ownership of the Mark and how you set her free. You keep her attention long enough for me to retrieve Lucifer and then we’ll come back for you.”

 

    “Oh, so you want to use me as bait.” Dean threw his arms up in irritation. “Great plan. So, what, you get to save Lucifer while I get killed--”

 

    “She won’t hurt you if what I’ve heard about her is true.”

 

    “And just what have you heard exactly?”

 

    “That she has a score to settle with Father, and that she’s very taken with you.” Dean blushed while Gabriel gagged. The hunter was silent for a few moments before responding, a tone of finality in his voice.

 

    “No.” Michael frowned, slowly releasing a breath through his nose.

 

    “Sleep on it then, as you humans like to say, because I don’t see you coming up with a better plan.”

 

    “Oh no, I’ve got a plan,” Dean told Michael, who looked at him unimpressed. “Yeah, I’ve got a plan. My plan is to take a nice, long, well deserved nap… And then I’m going to do everything I can to make sure Cas gets home safe, because while you two have been sorting out your family issues, me and Sam have been trying to fix the mess that your family started!”

 

    “We aren’t the ones who released her from imprisonment,” Michael growled.

 

    “Yeah? Well you’re probably the ones who shut her away in the first place, right?! Tell me I’m wrong.” He looked between the two angels, irate. “Go on. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

    “Dean, it’s not that--”

 

    “Don’t tell me it’s not that simple! Don’t tell me it’s more complicated than that! Because you couldn’t get along with your aunt, the world’s about to end, **again** , and Cas is--Argh!” Dean and Michael cry out in pain at the same time, doubling over. Sam and Gabriel wince as pulses of pain, dulled this time, course through them. When the pain stopped, Dean caught his breath before continuing. “My point is, it’s **your** family issues, **your** absentee Dad, **your** crazy aunt, **your** fault that all of this is happening. Me and Sam are just the two unlucky sons of bitches your Dad decided to be the scapegoats, and to fix this mess.” With a final glare to Gabriel and Michael, Dean stormed out of the room. A tense silence filled the air before Gabriel looked to Sam.

 

    Sam’s eyes were full of conflict. All of the information he’d just received… He needed time to wrap his head around it all, and he needed time to figure out what he thought about… everything. He turned and, without looking back, began to leave. Gabriel’s eyes widened in alarm.

 

    “Sam?” he called out desperately. Sam stopped in his tracks, taking deep breaths and trying to keep his mouth shut. With a shake of his head, he continued to walk out, missing the broken look on Gabriel’s face as he did so. Michael attempted to console him, but Gabriel ignored his efforts, dispelling his illusion and going silent. Michael sighed before running a hand through his hair in frustration.

 

    “Go talk to him,” he finally uttered under his breath.

 

    ‘ _What?’_

 

    “I know what it’s like, when you and your soulmate fall out because of something you did--”

 

     ' _Your point being? '_  Gabriel sniped. Michael repressed a growl.

 

    “Explain yourself to him before it’s too late to fix the damage you’ve done.” Without another word, Gabriel felt himself being expelled from the vessel, and found himself lying on the floor, looking at a pained Michael.

 

    “Are you going to be alright if I’m out here?” Michael winced, holding his head for a moment.

 

    “I should be. You’ve fixed most of the damage. It’s just--” He let out a harsh breath. “It feels so… different, without you in my head.”

 

    Clambering to his feet, Gabriel replied, “That’s because of both the healing and the remaining damage. I **think** I got all of the false memories, so that part of your head should definitely be hurting with all the removing and rearranging I had to do.” He gave Michael a reassuring, but sad, smile. “Call me if you need anything.” With that, he vanished with a flap of his wings, leaving Michael to fall into a chair, exhaustion from everything out of the Cage finally getting to him.

 

XxX

 

    Dean stomped into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and practically throwing himself on his bed. Sleep was definitely in order right now. Maybe all of this had just been one sick, twisted dream. Gabriel is off doing who knows what who knows where, Michael is still in the Cage, and Amara isn’t torturing Lucifer and Castiel after all. Only one way to find out, right? Making himself comfortable and throwing off his boots and socks without care, Dean closed his eyes and waited for the exhaustion and stress to lull him to sleep. Sleep found him, but he regretted falling asleep as soon as he found himself in some broken down, abandoned factory.

 

    _Dean opened his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar location. With effort, he managed to raise his head (why was his neck so sore, and why was his vision swimming so much?), and waited for his eyes to adjust. In the dark, all he could really see was a door cracked open a bit to his left, letting in the only source of light into the room. It illuminated enough for him to see forlorn, rusting equipment and machines around him, so he would assume he was in an old factory. A few moments later, the door opened wide to reveal--_

 

_‘_ ** _Amara?_ ** _’ Dean registered in shock. She strode in, stopping a few feet away, staring at straight at him. He tried to move, but found that he was bound upright to something. Great. She was invading his dreams now? She stared at him in mock pity, huffing with soft laughter._

 

     _“There’s no point in struggling. You know there’s no escaping me.” Several smartass retorts ran through his head, but he found that he couldn’t speak, nor could he explain the anger coursing through him. It came as a bit of a shock when he began speaking out of nowhere._

 

     _“Let me tell you something,_ **_Auntie_ ** _. When I escape from here… and I will… I will find a way to end you. You’ll regret this.” Though strained and hoarse, Dean would recognize that voice from anywhere. Castiel, Lucifer in this instance._

 

     _“And… how is it that you’ll have your revenge on me? God has forsaken you.” The fallen angel growled weakly and Amara just raised an eyebrow. “Not even the full might of Heaven could bring me down. The Winchesters know better than to rush recklessly to your rescue, if they can even find you. I don’t see any way you could possibly get out of this situation.” Lucifer tried containing his laughter, but failed miserably, soon guffawing as loud as his sore throat would let him. “What are you laughing at?”_

 

_“Aha. You… You don’t know the Winchesters like I do. You see, they know they need me, and_ **_when_** _,_ **_when_ ** _they find me, they’ll have a plan, a stupid, yet brilliant plan, like they always do, and it’ll work. You’ll be gone and I’ll be free. That’s just how the universe has worked for the last few decades.” Dean was shocked to hear Lucifer’s words of confidence, even if it may have been an unintentional compliment._

 

_‘_ **_Lucifer, you son of a bitch_ ** _, he thought to himself. Lucifer stiffened upon hearing a thought directed at him. Then, a weary voice called out, '_ **_Dean?_ ** _’_

 

_‘_ _ **Cas**._ ' _Amara noticed the abrupt shift in Lucifer’s behavior, eyeing him warily._

 

_“I don’t know who it is that keeps finding out where we are,” Amara remarked to herself. Stepping forward, she grabbed Lucifer’s chin harshly, looking into his eyes. “Whoever you are, this is a warning. I will not hesitate to find you and get rid of you myself. Leave my presence now or face the consequences.”_

 

_‘_ **_Let’s go, Dean,_ ** _’ a new voice said. Michael?! His vision faded to black._

 

    Dean shot up, alert, finding Michael sitting on the edge of his bed with a hand to his head, wincing. “What the Hell are you doing in my room?” he demanded to know. Michael dropped his hand and looked at Dean.

 

    “I was trying to locate Amara. She had detected my presence during my first attempt, when she first began torturing Lucifer, and I reached out to him. I went for a more subtle approach this time, not alerting anyone that I was sharing Lucifer’s awareness, and then you had to ruin that.”

 

    “Me? You’re the one who pointed out being able to see through your soulmates eyes earlier, and now you’re telling me that that was my fault?”

 

    “Only fully bonded soulmates should be able to share awarenesses and see through the other’s eyes. As you and Castiel have yet to complete the ritual, the only explanation of your “dream” is Castiel’s connection to Lucifer while they inhabit the same vessel… and possibly the connection between the two of us, as you are still one of my true vessels.” Dean blinked owlishly at him.

 

    “Ritual? What ritual?” Michael just resisted the urge to facepalm and shake his head (he would have to have a word with Gabriel about his mannerisms), instead giving off an air of amusement. He semi-patiently explained himself.

 

    “The bonding ritual between two soulmates involves reciting a vow of faith, the connection of grace, or in your case, grace and soul, and coupling.” Dean coughed at the last part.

 

    “Coupling. You mean, um… You… Uh…” Michael rolled his eyes (he was definitely talking with Gabriel now).

 

    “Shall I spell it out for you, Dean?” He really didn’t want to hear the simplified version, but Michael told him anyway. “Once your soul and Castiel’s grace become intertwined, you will recite an Enochian vow of faith with him before the two of you have sex.”

 

    “Okay. That’s it. Get out of here. Get out of my room.” Michael, throwing Dean a pointed look, stood and left, leaving Dean to process that new information. Chuck, he and Castiel had a lot to talk about when they got him back.

 

XxX

 

    Gabriel stood outside Sam’s door, steeling himself to knock. This was Sam, **his** Sam. Everything would be fine… right? He raised his hand to knock, hesitating, before letting it fall back to his side. But the look on Sam’s face earlier… Gabriel could feel the disappointment and bitterness across the room. What if… Sam…

 

    “Gabriel, I know you’re out there,” Sam called from his room. “You can come in.” Suddenly just a little hopeful, Gabriel slowly opened the door, stepping cautiously into the room. Sam lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with an unreadable expression on his face. When he heard the door close, his eyes shifted to Gabriel, who had the decency to look like a kicked puppy. “Don’t do that,” he muttered softly.

 

    “Do what?”

 

    “You’ve got that look on your face you get when you feel like the worst person on Earth and you can’t forgive yourself. Stop it.”

 

    “But--”

 

    “Gabriel,” Sam interrupted, voice gentle. He fell silent. “Don’t get me wrong, I am extremely pissed at you. You changed the timeline, broke Michael out of the Cage, put yourself in danger without telling me why or how… but I’m just glad you’re okay.” Gabriel stared with teary eyes at the marvel speaking to him.

 

    “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. “And I promise that, once Amara’s gone and the world is safe again, I will spend the rest of my days trying to be the best soulmate I can be.”

 

    “You already are.” The statement surprised him, as did the hand Sam held out to him. Sitting up, Sam pulled Gabriel up on his bed next to him and into an embrace, not letting go. “I just want to know what’s been going on with you.”

 

    “Which part?”

 

    Sam seemed unsure of his response, but finally settled on, “Everything.” Gabriel nodded, and began with the day he had traveled back in time. From there, he detailed recent events: inhabiting Michael, the war in Heaven, Michael’s memories of the Cage, Lucifer. When he finished, he felt Sam squeeze him just a little bit tighter before letting go of him. “No wonder you didn’t want to tell me anything before you left.” Gabriel let out a brief laugh, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

 

    “Yeah.” A comfortable silence settled between them, Gabriel laying his head on Sam’s shoulder and Sam wrapping an arm around his waist. “You know what would be really good right now?” Sam looked down at him for a moment, sensing Gabriel’s intentions.

 

    “A case?” Sam answered.

 

    “Bingo! What we all need is a distraction from all the family drama going on. Maybe a little bit of stabbing and shooting to ease our frustrations. So,” he declared, clapping his hands together, “I’ll fly around the neighborhood and see if I hear anything.” As he tried to get to his feet, Sam’s grip on him tightened.

 

     "Wait,” he whispered. Gabriel froze as Sam tenderly tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear. “Before you go…” Gabriel fully turned to him, sitting back down. Sam leaned in towards him, hand tucked behind Gabriel’s head. Gabriel met him halfway, desperately moving his lips against Sam’s. He wrapped his wings around them both, pulling Sam ever closer to him. He’d missed this, this closeness, this sense of _right_ and _everything he’d ever needed_. When they broke apart, Sam commanded him softly, “Don’t ever leave me like that again.” Gabriel stole another quick kiss, expression now serious and full of love.

 

    “ _Ol aisaro,_ ” Gabriel whispered in his ear, making shivers run down his spine. Sam heard the echoes of the words _I promise_ in his head before Gabriel disappeared with a flap of wings. Sam sighed, letting his head fall back on his pillows as he stretched back out on his bed, fingers to his lips.

 

XxX

 

    A few days later, Dean observed Michael from the passenger’s seat on their way to a case in Nebraska, a run of the mill ghoul hunt if the signs in the police report were anything to go by. Something was off about him though, more off than when he realized the angel’d been tortured in the Cage that is. Sometimes, Michael would have the hardened, determined, battle ready look of the dickish archangel he knew. Others, he looked lost, frightened even. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, but Dean could have swore that he was looking at someone completely different sometimes. Gabriel seemed to notice Dean’s looks of concern from the front, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Dean waved him off, but Gabriel was not convinced. He observed him more closely and found him staring at Michael. His gaze too traveled to his older brother, finding him staring out the window, but something wasn’t right… His eyes widened and he had to hold in a gasp as he saw that Adam was in control of his body. Was Michael truly so exhausted that he would relinquish his control to Adam, at a time like this?

 

    “You alright back there, you two?” Sam asked from the driver’s seat, eyes glancing at the rearview mirror before refocusing on the road. Gabriel nodded.

 

    “Just fine, right Michael?” Adam stiffened before nodding in turn.

 

    “Of course,” he answered assuredly, and as if he was annoyed by the question. Not a bad impersonation, but Gabriel wasn’t fooled by the body language. The rest of the ride was silent, and it wasn’t until they left the Impala that Gabriel pulled him aside as Sam and Dean split up from them to scout the area, an old abandoned farmhouse with a few acres of land.

 

    “Is Michael alright?” Gabriel questioned. “Are **you** alright?” he directed at Adam. The human nodded.

 

    “It feels… strange to be controlling my body again after such a long time. Michael is fine, by the way. A bit pained and exhausted from earlier, but fine.”

 

    “If anyone should be exhausted, it’s me!” Gabriel proclaimed. “I put a lot of time, energy, and grace into fixing his head and healing his injuries, but you don’t hear or see me complaining!”

 

    “He tells me that sharing Lucifer’s pain and emotions are taking their toll on him, as are his efforts to locate Lucifer through their bond. Amara’s moved him again.” Gabriel sighed.

 

    “Regardless, it’s not safe for you to be here without Michael in control. You’re only human and you haven’t been trained to hunt like the boys.”

 

    “Spending years and years in the archangel Michael’s head can give you an insight on combat training though, and how to use this.” From out of nowhere, Adam procured a very familiar weapon. Gabriel’s eyes fixed on the blade. To the normal eye, it looked just like any other angel blade, but an angel or supernatural creature of sufficient strength could see the runes of power etched across its surface, feel the grace radiating off of it. “If I run into anything, I think I should be fine.”

 

    “ **I’m** here. Of course you’ll be fine. Just stay behind me and--” The sound of gunshots in the distance interrupted him and, concerned, Gabriel grabbed Adam’s arm, flying them to where he thought the boys were. They found Sam and Dean finishing off a pair of ghouls, and Adam was reminded of times best forgotten. His heart skipped a beat and a look of terror crossed his face as he dropped Michael’s blade. Sam and Dean turned around at the sound of wings, stunned at the sight of what they thought was a terrified Michael slowly backing away from the ghoul corpses lying before them. Sam’s gaze flickered to Gabriel in concern, silently asking for answers. Gabriel shook his head in bewilderment, not having any idea what was going on before it clicked in his mind. Adam. He had been murdered by ghouls, hadn’t he? No wonder he would rather be anywhere but here. Reaching a hand out in Adam’s direction, he used his grace to ease the human’s fear and banish the memories from the forefront of his mind. The three watched Adam slowly visibly relax, shaking his head before bending down to pick up the dropped blade.

 

    “Is… everything alright, Michael?” Sam asked, genuinely concerned, but not sure how the question would be taken by the archangel. Adam briefly met his eyes before looking away and nodding.

 

    “The bodies, they… reminded me of something I’d rather forget.” He met the brothers’ eyes. “Are they the only ones here?” Adam questioned, trying to put as much false confidence and command in his voice as he could.

 

    “We hadn’t really searched anywhere before you two showed up. They just jumped out at us out of nowhere. Besides, you and Gabriel are supposed to be helping. You didn’t come all this way with us just to stand there; the least you could do is help.”

 

    “You’re right, I **didn’t** come all this way to do nothing, but I certainly didn’t join you to do your dirty work. I’m here to make sure you two don’t get yourselves killed.” As Dean turned around to continue scoping out the area, Adam threw Gabriel a questioning glance. Gabriel threw him a thumbs up in return. Sam watched the exchange with confusion, not understanding what was going on with the older archangel. Adam and Gabriel went back outside, looking over the rest of the property and finding a large pack of ghouls residing in a surprisingly well kept barn. Gabriel easily decapitated most of them, but watched in fascination as Adam executed one of Michael’s favorite  sword techniques with his angel blade, easily dispatching the last three ghouls with a graceful flourish.  

 

    “Nicely done,” Gabriel commented, drawing a weak smile from Adam. “Now, let’s see if those two need any rescuing.”

 

XxX

 

    “Oh, perfect. We’re gonna need our suits,” Sam stated as he walked into the kitchen a few days later. Dean was ironing his suit, drinking from a bottle of beer in the early hours of the morning.

 

    “Tell me you got something on Amara,” Dean asked.

 

    “Uh, it’s a long shot, but clock’s ticking, right? Whatever Amara’s doing to Lucifer--” Sam began, handing his tablet to Dean.

 

    “Yeah, and beating on Cas in the meantime,” Dean spoke offhandedly, looking over the website.

 

    “Yeah… Uh, Hope Springs, Idaho. A guy named Wes Cooper killed himself after killing a coworker. According to the reports, though nobody knows why, apparently he was a perfectly happy guy and then--” Sam snapped his fingers. “Snap.”

 

    “So, what, possession?” Dean offered up.

 

    “Or he was soulless,” Sam suggested.   

 

    “Well it ain’t much, but given what we’ve got, I’ll take it.” He handed the tablet back to Sam before also handing him his ironed shirt with a mischievous smile. “Here you go.”

 

    “Thanks,” Sam replied suspiciously. He sniffed the shirt before pulling back in irritation. “Dude, quit ironing my shirts with beer!” As he went after Dean in the hallway, he literally ran into Gabriel, who caught him as he stumbled backwards from the impact. “Thanks, Gabriel,” he spoke with a soft smile. Gabriel returned the smile before hoisting Sam back onto his feet.

 

    “Rushing off to save the day again, Samoose?” He strolled into the kitchen, checking the fridge for any potential breakfast before giving up and snapping himself an omelette with a side of juice.

 

    “Yeah. We found a potential Amara case up in Idaho that we’re going to check out. We should only be a couple of days.” Gabriel paused and turned to give him an opposed glare.

 

    “We? Oh, you’re not leaving without me, Sam,” Gabriel declared, arms crossed, a stubborn look on his face, like a petulant child. “If Amara is involved, you could get hurt, or worse. She’ll leave Dean alone, but she won’t think twice about doing something to you.”

 

    “Gabriel, it’s not because I don’t want you with us. It’s just… and this is weird, even for me… I’m worried about Michael.” That caught Gabriel’s attention. His arms fell back at his side as confusion made itself clear on his face. “He hasn’t been himself lately. He probably hasn’t been himself since before the apocalypse. If something were to happen here, he’d be vulnerable, and I don’t know how well he’d be able to hold his own with the state he’s in. Keep him safe while we’re gone?” The “Please?” was implied in his gentle tone. Gabriel huffed before acquiescing.  

 

    “Brotherly bonding time, am I right?” Sam chuckled gratefully. Gabriel’s expression softened before he made a request. “Stay safe for me, Sam, okay?” Sam walked over to him and leaned down, lips a hair's breadth away from Gabriel’s.

 

    Echoing his soulmate’s words from a few nights before, he whispered seriously, “ _Ol aisaro_.” Gabriel drew in a quick breath before closing the distance between them none too gently, breakfast forgotten. Dean came around the corner and into the room just as Gabriel had pushed Sam against the wall, much to both hunters’ surprise.

 

    “What the Hell-- Really?! It’s too early for me to see you two--” Sam and Gabriel broke apart, Gabriel with annoyance and Sam with shock. “Making out like there’s no tomorrow! We’ve got a case to solve and a potential Amara lead, so get your butt dressed and let’s go.” Sam threw Dean a bitch face before leaving the kitchen, and Dean turned to Gabriel with a grimace. Gabriel raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

 

    “Got something to say, Dean-o?”

 

    “I don’t trust you,” Dean finally put out in the open. “I never have. Just because Sam is perfectly okay with just waltzing around doing whatever you want, putting everyone’s lives in danger, showing up out of nowhere, and avoiding responsibility, does **not** mean I am. I don’t know what he sees in you, but if you **ever** hurt my baby brother…” Gabriel met Dean’s fiery glower. “I will make you wish that Lucifer **had** killed you all those years ago.” Gabriel let the words sink in for a moment before letting out a snort of amusement. He turned as if to walk away before suddenly flinging Dean into the wall with his grace, holding him there as he flapped his wings to get eye level. With passionate eyes, he set things straight with Dean.

 

    “You listen here, you arrogant prick,” he growled. “Sam Winchester is my entire world and I would **never** let **anything** happen to him if it was within my power to stop it. I would give my life to protect him, and your ungrateful ass too, believe it or not! So don’t you **ever** accuse me of being capable of hurting him…” Dean eyed him with a pained half glare. Gabriel’s voice lowered to a menacing rumble. “And if you ever threaten me again… I will make Purgatory and Hell look like walks in the park because there are much worse things out there than constantly fearing for your safety and your life.” Dean didn't once flinch or attempt to pull away. Instead, he lay pinned to the wall, matching Gabriel’s fury and determination. They both loved Sam, and they would both do whatever was necessary to keep him safe. They just had different ways of going about it. Upon realizing this, the two exchanged amused expressions before sharing a laugh, Gabriel letting Dean land back on his feet, touching down and stowing away his wings.

 

    Dean smirked and told him, “You know, you’re alright, man.”

 

    “You’re not too bad yourself, Dean, but I meant what I said. I would do anything for Sam, for both of you.”

 

    “I know. I just want to keep him safe. He’s lost too many people he cares about. I don’t want you to be one of them.”

 

    “Over my dead body! I dare someone to come after one of us because as long as I’m breathing, they won’t be.” Dean didn’t doubt that.

 

    “So, you sitting this one out?”

 

    “On Samoose’s request, yes. Besides, I’ve been meaning to check on Michael anyway. Looks like I’ll need to do a bit more healing before he’s fully back on his feet.”

 

    “And Heaven’ll be alright without you two up there?” Gabriel hadn’t thought of that, and, quite honestly, he didn’t want to. That was something he would discuss with Michael at a later time. Luckily, Sam’s arrival in his freshly beer ironed suit kept him from having to answer.

 

    “Hey. Ready to go?” He looked between Dean and Gabriel for a moment, sensing some odd shift in the atmosphere of the room before his eyes focused on Dean.

 

    “Yeah, just… clearing the air a little.” He followed Sam out, leaving Gabriel to reheat and finish his breakfast before flying off to find Michael.

 

XxX

 

    The trip to Idaho had been a disaster. Not only was the fog here, but it had already struck once before. Now, it had returned with a vengeance, and had infected much of the town and Sam too. Now, here they were, trapped in the Hope Springs police station, trying to hold out for as long as they could. Dean took a deep breath of the Amara fog in and realized that it was having no effect on him. His world around him was falling apart, the townspeople infected, Sam potentially dying in his arms, Amara one step closer to destroying everything as they knew it. With rage and desperation, he shouted to the sky, “Stop this! You hear me you dick?!” After that, everything went silent, apart from Sam’s small sounds of anguish. “I’m right here, Sammy. I’m right here,” he whispered soothingly to his brother, holding him gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” As Sam regained awareness, struggling to sit up and breathe properly, Dean saw an unnaturally bright light shine through his brother’s jacket pocket. He dug out what he thought was something they’d lost ages ago, the God finding necklace. It shone almost blindingly in Dean’s hand, and he and Sam exchanged disbelieving looks as all the damage done that day seemed to have been reversed. The black veins present in Sam were gone, and the rest of the people in the police station seemed relatively unharmed.

 

    Helping his brother to his feet, the two emerged from the police station, walking down the main street as the light from the necklace continued to shine. They saw a recently killed Deputy Harris reunite with her previously dead husband, the townspeople unlucky enough to be caught outside getting to their feet in confusion. They stopped when they saw someone they thought long dead help a young woman to her feet. They’d know that man from anywhere; Chuck, Prophet of the Lord, was alive. He turned to face them, and that’s when something clicked in Dean’s mind. His gaze fell to the necklace in his hand before moving to Chuck, who took a few steps closer. He smiled his usual warm smile at the two humans he’d put so much faith in.

 

    Mind made up, he said to them, “We should probably talk.”

 

 

Closing A/N: So… Season 13 has been interesting. Writing this chapter has been interesting. Writing next chapter will be even more interesting, but I am asking for some reader’s input/opinion. Either scenario will lead to the same overall end result in regards to the angel family subplot, but when Michael and Chuck reunite, should Michael be angry and/or hurt that Chuck left him in the Cage, or be understanding, relieved, etc.? Personally, both would be fun to write, for differing reasons, but I just wanted a general opinion.


	13. One Big, Not So Happy Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this ends up a mess and/or confusing, and super spaced out, but it's 2 a.m., I needed to write, I'm going to bed, and haven't beta'd my work yet. I'm gonna post this now...

Chapter Thirteen: One Big, Not So Happy Family

  
  


A/N: Heck yeah! We’ve passed 2,200 views everyone! *excessive cheering and whooping* Thank you thank you THANK YOU for supporting this story!!! We’re finally coming up on the homestretch of the fic. I’m thinking  **maybe** three more chapters following this one, and then it’s on to the sequel, which might take a little while to get started as I butcher much of season 12 to fit my plot. Huge thanks to HARTandSOLwrites for suggestions and ideas, and for an idea for a SPN/Lucifer crossover concerning one Doctor Linda Martin getting sent to the Supernatural universe to be their therapist. (You heard it here first, folks, unless I’m just really late to the party on that idea). Ahem, anyway, we’re diving back in a little after where we left off. :)                       

 

    Adam peaked his head into the door at the sound of his brothers’ voices. Weren’t they a few states away not too long ago? He’d been on his way to the kitchen for a quick bite to eat after the first round of Gabriel’s mental healing and fixing, which was a lot more draining than it had been made out to be. With Gabriel back to possessing them, now he knew just how Michael had been feeling all this time while he had been in the backseat to everything. It was then that he overheard parts of a conversation. There was a third, unfamiliar voice added to the mixture, one that, for reasons unknown, Michael seemed to vaguely recognize. He couldn’t see the third figure from his current position, so he risked putting himself in the trio’s line of sight to get a better look. His jaw dropped as he saw what he  _ thought _ was the body of the prophet Chuck Shurley, but no. Michael knew better and, without a thought, retook control of Adam’s body, emerging from the hall.

  
  


    “Father…?” he asked quietly. The voices died down and Michael met his Father’s melancholy gaze. Sam and Dean looked unsure of the situation, but made no effort to intervene.

  
  


    “Michael,” Chuck whispered, trying to keep any revealing emotions out of his voice. Michael took a few cautious steps forward, wary of the human looking figure, but the presence radiating from it could not be mistaken for anyone else. What do you say to the parent you would do anything for, who you revered, who abandoned you in your biggest time of need? 

  
  


    “So you’ve returned,” he stated as calmly as he could. He said nothing else, didn’t give any indication of a reaction at all. Sam and Dean exchanged looks, not sure where this was going.

  
  


    “I have.” An uncomfortable silence settled between them and Michael nodded in understanding. As their eyes met, Chuck saw a raw pain in Michael’s he’d never seen before that made him frown in concern. No one else seemed to notice. 

  
  


    “Good, then you can help us when we find Lucifer.” Better to leave it at that than lay all of his thoughts out in the open. Now was not the right time. With that, he vanished from the room and back upstairs, leaving the other three shocked at the lack of… anger, relief, something, anything? Dean glanced at Chuck’s almost hurt expression, snorting and drawing the being’s attention. He didn’t look amused.

  
  


    “I suppose you find me being given the cold shoulder funny, Dean?”

  
  


    “No, not really… Well, maybe a little, but, I mean, what were you expecting?” Chuck’s face settled on a thoughtful expression.

  
  


    “Well, anger, for starters. I did leave him trapped with Lucifer in the Cage after you two stopped the Apocalypse and didn’t once try to rescue him. Maybe a little bit of hurt, some relief now that I’m not just a whisper in the wind. I didn’t expect… A complete lack of a reaction.” He wouldn’t mention the eyes. He’d dwell on that later.

  
  


    “Well regardless of how he feels, he has a point. Lucifer is out there, with Amara, and Michael has been looking for her nonstop for days. I have to remind him to disconnect every now and then so he doesn’t end up lost in the bond.”

  
  


    “And I’ve already told you, I’m not doing anything at this point regarding Amara,” Chuck reminded him. “Not yet, but I will. She will be dealt with, mark my words.”

  
  


    “Yeah, I know,” Dean replied. “I’m just saying that we’re going to get your sons back… And then we’ll go from there.” That managed to quiet the being as Dean headed upstairs, leaving Sam with Chuck. 

  
  


    “We think we have a lead on Amara and Lucifer’s location, and we’re hoping to check it out later. We’ll keep you posted, or, I guess, we don’t need to since you’re, um, you, and--”

  
  


    “Sam,” Chuck interrupted, smiling gently. Sam let out a short laugh, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. 

  
  


    “Right.” He too left the room, leaving Chuck alone with his thoughts. 

  
  


XxX              

  
  


    Sam, Dean, and Michael walked into the bar they’d agreed to meet Metatron in. Michael wasn’t surprised when Metatron did a double take at his appearance, but quickly played it off as nothing, ordering the three of them drinks. “Alright, we’re here,” Sam told him as the three sat down around him. “Don’t try to pull any crap.”

  
  


    “And what kind of variety of crap could I possibly pull?” Metatron asked almost outraged, exasperated as well. “I’ve lost my grace. Look at me; I’ve got nothing. Not to mention, you brang archangelic backup with you.” He finally addressed Michael, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Michael, nice to see you again.”

  
  


    “Scribe,” he replied curtly.

  
  


    “Okay, why did you have to see us?” Dean asked, steering the conversation back on track. “What’s so urgent?” Metatron sighed as drinks were placed in front of the three Dean and Michael eyeing them suspiciously while Sam just nodded in thanks to the bartender.

  
  


    “So, I, uh, notice you’ve been in touch with Chuck? A.K.A. you know who?”

  
  


    “Yeah, yeah. Is this going anywhere?” Sam asked, annoyed. “Yes, Chuck agreed to take on Amara.” Metatron turned to him, not believing Sam and knowing better.

  
  


    “He said that, used those words?”

  
  


    Dean replied, “Pretty much.” 

  
  


    At Metatron’s hmph, Sam raised the question, “What, so he’s not confronting Amara?”

  
  


    “Oh no. No no no. He’s, he’s going to, uh, going to… Meet with her.” He stared resignedly at the bartop in front of him. “He’s just not going to take her down.” The other three paused, trying to figure out just what Metatron was getting at. “He’s going to sacrifice himself, let her do whatever she wants with him.”

  
  


    “My Father would never--”

  
  


    “Oh, don’t give me the whole, “My Father would never do such a thing. God wouldn’t let it happen. God is this,God is that.” He withered under Gabriel and Michael’s combined glare, but continued. “Trust me, Golden Boy, he’s not looking to end her, not even close.”

  
  


    “And we’re just supposed to buy this?” Sam demanded. Metatron shook his head with a sad smile, procuring a huge stack of papers out of his bag.

  
  


    “No, buy  **this** .” Setting the papers down on the table, Sam’s expression turned concerned as he read the title:  _ God, An Autobiography _ . “Ignore the typos, but read it. It’s in His own words. It’s not an autobiography, it’s a… Suicide note.” Sam and Dean exchanged looks, trying to process the information as Michael took the autobiography and scanned through it, absorbing his Father’s words and looking for any signs of truth to Metatron’s statements. The farther he got, the more his stomach knotted at the sheer amount of, well,  _ everything _ in the writing: the pain, the disappointment, the “good”, the bad. 

  
  


    ‘ _ Michael?’ _ Gabriel asked. ‘ _ Does he… Does he really feel this way, about the world, about his creations… About us?’ _

  
  


    “I don’t know, brother,” he murmured under his breath, finishing skimming in what looked like seconds to the humans’ eyes. Placing it back on the bartop, he turned to Metatron. “Do you have another copy I might keep? I’d like to read through it all, if I can.”

  
  


    “No. Can’t you just make a copy? You do still have grace, after all.” Eyes flashing blue, with an irked expression on his face, Gabriel snapped his fingers and another completely identical set of papers appeared next to the original stack. Eyes flashing once again, Michael grabbed the second set of papers, gesturing to the boys that it was probably time to go. 

  
  


    “We’ll be in touch. We might need your help again,” Sam told him begrudgingly as he watched Michael. With nods they stood and left, Metatron looking after them, worried and hoping they knew what they were doing. 

  
  


XxX 

  
  


    Meeting with Metatron had been… Enlightening to say the least. Dean sighed as he grabbed a couple of beers from the kitchen, mind then bringing him back to his conversation with Chuck.  _ “And what you call throwing in the towel, I call strategy.” _ Stupid, ridiculous, ludicrous. Amara, the Amara he knew, would never agree to Chuck’s terms and would sooner watch him die a painful death than negotiate with him. Total destruction,  _ darkness _ , was what she wanted; Chuck’s fate in her hands was simply an added bonus, he thought. Strolling into the war room, hoping he looked less despondent than he felt, he handed Donatello a beer. 

  
  


    “Got you a beer. Don’t know if you drink.”

  
  


    “I do now,” the prophet responded, throwing it back and taking a hefty gulp. With Sam and Metatron’s arrival, they could all finally discuss the situation, and their plan to deal with Amara. After a bit of bragging about his time as a scribe, and Dean’s questioning of his intentions, Metatron surprised them.

  
  


    “I was by his side since the Creation. He believed in me. If there’s something I can do to help save him, and his creation then…” He shrugged, voice uncharacteristically quiet, tone honest. “Seems like I should.” After a moment of silent consideration of his words, Dean spoke.

  
  


    “The plan is to rescue Lucifer from Amara.” This got Metatron’s attention, a serious look now on his face as Dean continued. “Then, he teleports us out of Amara’s hideout,” (Dean sounded skeptical about that point.) “And we convince Chuck to use him to fight her.” After a slight pause, Metatron scoffed, smile incredulous.

  
  


    “That’s your plan? Do you even know where Amara is?” After Donatello’s explanation of his ability to sense her activity, Metatron turned back to Dean. “How’re we supposed to keep Amara busy while we’re… Liberating Lucifer?”

  
  


    “I believe that’s where Dean comes in,” a voice sounded from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Michael standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking as normal as ever. He raised an eyebrow when Dean shot him a look, walking over to the table and joining the conversation. “I assume you remember my suggestion the last time we had this conversation?” Rolling his eyes after a moment, Dean relented.

  
  


    “ _ Fine _ . Fine. Let’s say I agree to that. If Amara somehow sees through our plan and goes off to find you, what’s your getaway plan? Sam banked on Lucifer flying you guys out of there, but in case you haven’t noticed, Amara’s been whaling on him, and Cas, ever since she took him. What’s to say his wings will even be operational when you find him?”

  
  


    “Do  **not** imply what I think you’re implying,” Michael warned him, expression threatening but worry obviously present in his voice. Dean held his hands up in surrender.

  
  


    “All I’m saying is what if, okay? What’s Plan B?” Michael’s eyes flashed blue.

  
  


    “I should be able to fly all of us back here once Luci’s secure. Taking the Impala is too risky, not a fast enough getaway ride, and Dean’s right. With the amount of pain Michael’s been feeling, Lucifer should in no way be healthy enough to fly us out of Amara’s hideout.” Hearing no objections, Gabriel clapped his hands together in finality, a smile on his face. “All set then? Good.” With a snap of his fingers, Dean disappeared from the table and Gabriel plopped down in his place. “So, any last suggestions before we get this show on the road?” Sam shook his head with a fond sigh and Metatron’s eyes widened in recognition.

  
  


    “Gabriel. When I heard the Winchesters were getting the gang back together, I didn’t think that meant  **all** of you.” The archangel shrugged.

  
  


    “The party isn’t a party without Raph, but hey, what can you do?”  

  
  


    “Gabriel? The  **archangel** Gabriel?” Donatello asked in disbelief. Metatron rolled his eyes and Sam stared sympathetically.

  
  


    “The one and only. Pleasure to meet you, Donatello! Now that that’s established…” His demeanor went from jovial to steely as his gaze hardened, letting the weight of their mission finally register. “Let’s do this.” With a flap of wings the bunker was empty.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    The four (five) walked into what looked like an abandoned silo, fairly dark, but dimly lit, sight improved only by the sunlight spilling in from the entrance gates. They saw Lucifer hanging limply from a contraption in the center of the room, bloody and bruised, barely conscious. Metatron jogged down to Lucifer’s side, examining his bindings, finding it to be powerful spellwork. Donatello looked on in shock while Sam looked on in worry, Gabriel’s eyes flashing blue. Lucifer’s gaze, however, fell on the fourth member present, who ran up and gently cupped his face, his expression a mix of relief and fury.  “I’m here,” he whispered. Lucifer attempted a weak laugh.

  
  


    “It’s about time. The prophet might’ve led you here, but you’ve been tracking her, haven’t you?” He sounded proud and grateful. Michael managed a small half smile and a nod before glaring at Metatron.

  
  


    “What’ve you found?” The scribe shook his head, waving him off as he continued frantically examining Lucifer’s bindings, racking his brain for its counter.

  
  


    “Alright. We’re busting you out of here,” Sam told him. As Michael scanned the vessel for any major damage, Lucifer raised his head to address Sam.

  
  


    “Well, seems fair, since I wouldn’t be here if you lunatics hadn’t set me up to be grabbed by Amara.” Metatron began muttering counterspells under his breath, going straight down his mental list of possibilities.   

  
  


    “You’re gonna help us take her down. If you say no, we’ll just leave you here in Abu Ghraib.” 

  
  


    Coughing weakly at his second attempt at a laugh, Lucifer replied, “Say no? Do you see what she’s done to me? Do I look like a fan?!” After his outburst, Metatron’s loud reciting of some spell drew his attention. As Michael attempted to undo the spell with his grace, Lucifer hissed out, “ _ Conisa ge, _ ” stopping Michael’s attempt. Sam faintly registered the words as  _ don’t _ . 

  
  


    “But--”

  
  


    “Don’t worry about me right now. Save your strength for your own healing.”

  
  


    “You do realize you’ll be working with your Father?” Lucifer turned his attention back to Sam. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

  
  


    “Eh, that’s family… This is bigger.”

  
  


    “So you’ll table all the old stuff?”

  
  


    “What happens in Heaven stays in Heaven.” Metatron’s chanting spiked in volume again.

  
  


    “Metatron, are we getting any closer?” Sam inquired impatiently. “Dean can’t stall forever!” They were crunched for time here. Who knows when Amara might be back?

  
  


    “I’m--I’m--I’m narrowing it down.” After a few more tries, Lucifer felt his bindings fade, slumping to the ground with a groan. “Yes,” Metatron spoke with success. Michael gently helped Lucifer up, letting him lean most of his weight on him as he regained his bearings.

  
  


    “Hey! Lucifer, zap us out of here, quick!” Sam demanded. 

  
  


    With a heavy exhale, Lucifer responded, “Uh, no can do.”

  
  


    “What do you mean you can’t do it?!” Lucifer pointed to his wings, the outlines faintly visible to Sam’s eyes. He couldn’t see any major damage, so what was wrong?

  
  


    “Temporarily grounded, equipment malfunction.” It was then that Donatello began shaking his head erratically, alarmed.

  
  


    “Guys, I’m, I’m feeling her. She’s coming!” Sharing panicked looks, Sam rushed over to Michael, slinging Lucifer’s other arm over his shoulder and taking him.

  
  


    “Alright, we’re out of here. Alright, Metatron. C’mon.” Michael’s eyes flashed blue and Gabriel prepared to fly them back to the bunker. With a defeated look on his face, Metatron shook his head.

  
  


    “It’s okay, Sam. You go.”

  
  


    “What?! C’mon!” Metatron leveled him with a desperate look.

  
  


    “I’m serious… I got this.” With an apologetic yet grateful nod Sam gripped Gabriel’s shoulder with his free hand, motioning for Donatello to do the same. With the sound of wings, they were gone, leaving Metatron to quickly cut open his hand and begin a rare banishing sigil. At best, it would keep her off of them long enough for he and them to escape. At worst, well… He was willing to pay the price for his many misdeeds over the course of his existence. Of course, it didn’t work, as Amara barely blinked at his attempt.

  
  


    “You were kidding with that, weren’t you?” In a last attempt to sway her, he gave his last words, a final plea.

  
  


    “He meant well. Spare the universe.” She shook her head in contempt.

  
  


    “Spare this.” With barely a wave of her hand, Metatron was no more, disappearing from existence with a scream, and her gaze drifted to Lucifer’s recently escaped holdings.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    They reappeared in the war room, no one worse for wear post flight, Lucifer wrenching himself from Sam’s grasp and falling into Gabriel’s. Eyes flashing, Michael held him firmly, reaching out with his grace to check on his soulmate. Lucifer shut his eyes in relief, only to have them snap back open at the sound of footsteps. Setting a six-pack of beer on the table was Chuck, who regarded them all cautiously. 

  
  


    “I see you all made it back in one piece.” Lucifer stepped forward and out of Michael’s arms, eyes boring into his Father’s. Chuck looked pained at his appearance, sighing as he knew someone had to break the ice here. “You’ve changed,” he told him. Lucifer regarded Chuck’s current form, gaze softening as he did so. 

  
  


    “ _ You’ve _ changed.”

  
  


    “Well still, I’m pretty much just the same.” His eyes darted back and forth between his two sons for a moment, assessing the damage. With a half smile, click of his tongue, and flipping of an invisible switch, a blinding light illuminated them, Sam and Donatello looking on in awe as the two were seemingly completely healed. Finally able to stand stably on his feet, he scowled at his Father, causing Chuck to once again regard him with worry. Michael looked between them uncertainly, he and Gabriel both sharing the same sense of foreboding. Chuck was the first to look away, making another downward motion with his finger, teleporting Dean back into the bunker. He appeared next to Sam, slightly disoriented.

  
  


    Taking in the scene around him, he asked, “Uh, what did I miss?” The tension in the air broke at that, Lucifer finally looking away, slinking out of the room, Michael not far behind. 

  
  


    “Um, why don’t we see Donatello off, Dean? I’ll grab his stuff.” Wordlessly agreeing, the three left the room, allowing Sam to freely fill Dean in on the rescue mission as they sent Donatello off on his way a little farther into the city.

  
  


    “So Metatron took one for the team?”

  
  


    “Yeah.”

  
  


    “Well, I wouldn’t have called that.” Sam observed his brother and sighed.

  
  


    “So, you wanna tell me about it?” Dean briefly explained how Amara wanted him to “be a part of her,” and Sam was left speechless as Dean started heading back. Sam would never let that happen, so the sooner they all began working on the final plan, the better.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Chuck watched his two oldest sons interact, smiling softly as he watched Michael gently take Lucifer’s hand mid-conversation. As strange as it had been upon his discovery, he found that he quite liked the idea of them as soulmates. They made each other feel whole. He frowned, however, when he caught part of their conversation. “… cannot believe he has the gall to waltz back onto Earth as if He never left and practically demand that we fix a problem He created in the first place!”

  
  


    “Lucifer--”

  
  


    “No! Don’t chastise me right now, Michael. He has no right! You can’t tell me you’re taking His side? You can’t act like His absence didn’t affect you.”

  
  


    “I’m not. I am simply trying to understand his actions.” Lucifer groaned, agitated.

  
  


    “It’s  **Dad** . There is no understanding Him. There is only knowing that He decided to do something and that that’s that. Why would He explain Himself? In His eyes, His decision was the best one.” Michael sighed, gently squeezing Lucifer’s hand, expression softening.

  
  


    “I understand,” he began, eyes sympathetic, voice uncharacteristically soft, “That you are upset, and that Father’s return has dragged some bitterness to the surface… For now, all we can do is--”

  
  


    “If you say “have faith,” I will smite you where you stand,” Lucifer grumbled, though he was holding back a small smile. Michael shook his head fondly.

  
  


    “I was going to say wait and see what happens, but I suppose having faith isn’t a bad idea either.” Rolling his eyes affectionately, Lucifer took a deep breath and walked back out of the room, Michael lingering in the doorway should he need to break anything up. Chuck looked up at his son’s return, unsure of the situation as Lucifer stopped a little ways away from him. 

  
  


    “So where were you?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

  
  


    “That’s, uh, a long story… How do you feel? I healed you.” Lucifer scoffed.

  
  


    “Yeah. I didn’t ask you to.”

  
  


    “Son, be reasonable.”

  
  


    “One cosmic band-aid on my knee and what, you think that we’re, we’re even now? Is it time for us to go play catch in the yard?” Lucifer glared at him bitterly. “Screw you.” Chuck looked up as Sam and Dean returned carrying bags of food before turning his gaze back to his son.

  
  


    “Listen, I know I’ve been gone, for a while. I missed a few million birthdays--”

  
  


    “Yeah, and then the second your apes send a distress flare, boom! Daddy’s home.”

  
  


    “No, that’s not what happened.”

  
  


    “Yeah. These  _ apes _ saved your ass,” Dean interrupted. Lucifer directed his glare at them before snapping his fingers, making Dean flinch and Sam’s eyes go wide before they relaxed. Nothing had happened. 

  
  


    They turned to Chuck, who simply answered, “He can’t hurt you.”

  
  


    “Oh, so you’re controlling me now!” Lucifer exclaimed, anger growing by the second. 

  
  


    “It’s just a safeguard.” Lucifer’s eyes looked ready to bug out of his skull from his death glare, and Chuck met his fiery gaze with one of his own, only his was of determination, a determination to make Lucifer understand.

  
  


    “Hey, guys? Uh, Chuck? Lucifer? Uh, Dean? Think we can try and focus here? You know, end of the world, common enemy, all that?” Sam’s request seemed to go over their heads, the only indication of their hearing it being Lucifer’s next words to Chuck as he came within inches of his Father, eyes never leaving His.

  
  


    Seething, Lucifer told Chuck, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Team Amara. Go Amara.”

  
  


    “You don’t mean that,” Chuck told him softly. Lucifer examined his face for a moment.

  
  


    “You’re really not going to say it.” Chuck looked away briefly before his gaze returned to Lucifer.

  
  


    “He’s… Not going to say what?” Sam inquired. 

  
  


    “Screw you,” Lucifer repeated before turning towards the Winchesters. “Screw all of you.” He walked past them and only stopping to give Michael the briefest look of helplessness before leaving the room, disappearing into the rest of the bunker.

  
  


    “Kids, huh?” Chuck asked them when Michael too disappeared. The two just gave him a look as he too left the room, leaving them alone.

  
  


    “Okay, things are way more messed up than we thought they were, aren’t they?” Sam just sighed in response. They wouldn’t talk to each other,  **really** talk to each other. What Chuck and Lucifer needed was a way to open up about everything between them that caused their tension. Obviously, Lucifer was furious about, well, everything, and Chuck thought himself completely justified in everything he’d done up until this point. One, or both, of them had to give. And they couldn’t forget about Michael. The archangel hadn’t shown any huge reaction to Chuck’s return, which was a bit concerning and either meant all was well… Or he also had issues to resolve. Sam’s only fear was what would happen between the three when--if--he got them to talk.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Sam and Dean awoke the next morning to find Chuck, apron and all, making a batch of pancakes. It was, by far, not the weirdest thing they’d seen, but still. God? Making pancakes? They settled down at the kitchen table as he said good morning to him, watching him cook for a time. It was some time later, on the second batch, that Chuck sighed, tired of hearing a tirade of worried thoughts flying through the air. “What is it, Sam?” he asked wearily. He knew it had to do with his conversation with Lucifer yesterday and, honestly, he just wanted to pretend it never existed. There was no plausible solution to the predicament.

  
  


    “Talk to him,” Sam replied simply. 

  
  


    “Won’t do any good,” Chuck shot back, pouring more batter.

  
  


    “Why not?”

  
  


    “Because I can’t give him what he wants.”

  
  


    “And what’s that?” Dean asked tiredly.

  
  


    “What everyone wants--my sister, children, you humans--an apology, a big, wet ‘I’m sorry.’” 

  
  


    “Well, so give it to him,” Dean responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s not like he’s asking for a weapon, for Hell, for Heaven. He’s asking for words.” Chuck turned around and placed two steaming plates of pancakes in front of them.

  
  


    “I can’t say I’m sorry if I’m not. What he wants an apology for, I did it for humanity, for the world.” He picked up his mug of coffee and took a sip as he continued. “Look, Lucifer wants what everybody wants: Amara gone. Okay? Let’s just… Give him a little time to cool off.”

  
  


    Dean balked at the statement, stating, “Okay. Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a little bit of time is not something we have. The end is freakin’ nigh.” Chuck nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

  
  


    “Since you’re being so persistent, fine. I’ll talk with Lucifer. But,” he added, “You’ll have to convince him too.”

  
  


      “Great. Done deal. Easy.” Sam didn’t look as confident as Dean did, but gave a strained smile nonetheless. This is what Lucifer wanted right? How hard could it be?

  
  


XxX

  
  


    “I’m sorry, what?” Dean questioned as he and Sam, some time later, faced Michael and Lucifer, who had taken over Sam’s room the previous night.

  
  


    “You heard me. Lucifer is not the only one with things to discuss with my Father.” Dean couldn’t believe his ears. Michael wanted in on the therapy session too? Dean could imagine the issues if it were just Chuck and Lucifer, but Michael too? Not the best idea. He didn’t even want to think about the carnage the three of them could inevitably cause after one wrong word or look.

  
  


    “I won’t go without him,” Lucifer remarked, surprising the Winchesters. Dean seemed at a loss for words at that, but Sam would take it.

  
  


    “Alright then. That settles it.” He gestured to the door. “After you.” Dean gave him a look that told him he was crazy, but Sam shook his head, silently pleading for Dean to just go with it. They made their way to the library, where Chuck was already awaiting them. Pulling up another chair, he watched Lucifer take the seat across from him, Michael standing behind him.

  
  


    “I see Michael’s come with you,” Chuck remarked with a nervous smile.

  
  


    “I insisted,” his eldest replied. “You and Lucifer are not the only ones with matters to discuss.” Chuck nodded in acknowledgement. A silence settled between the three. After about a minute of avoiding eye contact and staring anywhere but at each other, Dean cleared his throat, motioning for someone to speak. The three glanced in his direction with unimpressed looks on their face.

  
  


    “What? One of you has to go first. Sitting and staring blankly into space isn’t moving this along any faster.”

  
  


    “Him first,” Lucifer demanded. “I’m the one who’s owed an explanation.” The Winchesters took seats on the stairs off to the side. 

  
  


    “About what specifically?” Michael asked.

  
  


    “Hmm. What should I start with first? Let’s not even begin to describe your abandonment of us all, or the state Heaven is in right now. There’s the Mark, the Fall, oh, and the Cage of course,” he remarked with a glare. He leaned forward menacingly in his chair. “You took him from me.”

  
  


    “Michael? I had the two of you separated when I realized you’d both fallen into the Cage, but I never kept you from finding each other--”

  
  


    “Is that so? Every waking moment, after tempers cooled and the bitterness slowly,  _ slowly _ disappeared, I searched for him. I wanted to make sure he was alright, that he hadn’t been hurt as we fell in… I flew, scoured every reachable inch of the prison you built for me, but I could never find him…” Chuck’s look of confusion merely spurred Lucifer’s growing frustration. “Don’t act like you don’t know!”

  
  


    “I didn’t! I assumed--”

  
  


    “If you assumed what I think you did based upon my injuries, then I suggest you not finish that sentence, Father,” Michael warned, bitter at the memories, unconsciously curling his wings inward. 

  
  


    “And you want to know why he was in the Cage in the first place? He began our fight because it was _destiny,_ _bound to happen_ \--I wonder who gave him that impression?--but, I wanted to save us both, so I asked him to leave with me, to escape this endless manipulation.”

  
  


    “Manipulation? I have done nothing but--”

  
  


    “Angels don’t get free will. That’s something you gifted your precious humans, not us. The Apocalypse was always supposed to happen according to you. If Michael wanted the fight to happen, I would give it to him, as much as it pained me to do so, so I did. Imagine my surprise when we fell in and woke up with Sam instead of Michael.” Dean noticed the stricken look on Sam’s face, briefly patting his back in reassurance. “I searched and searched. When my searches continued to yield nothing, I took my frustrations and anger out on Sam, I’ll admit.” Lucifer developed a far away look in his eyes. “He was the only other being I could sense, demons aside. I couldn’t feel Michael’s grace, sense his location, lay eyes on him… All I could hear were his screams…” Michael laid a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.

  
  


    “It wasn’t your fault, Lucifer,” Michael told him while his sharp gaze remained on Chuck. Chuck was receiving the same look Michael had given him when they’d first reunited, only with a strange fire behind them this time. Whether it was of anger or another nature was known only to Michael.

  
  


    “I designed the Cage to contain you, to punish you. It was not built for more than one. I don’t know why it decided to punish Michael--maybe because of his aura, his ties to Heaven, his ties to you--but I would  **never** wish all those horrible things on anyone, especially one of my sons. I never monitored what the Cage did, only if it contained you. I had no idea it was capable of such things, and for that, I’m sorry, both of you.” Michael, still not quite over the events of the Cage, nodded nonetheless, accepting the apology, but Lucifer looked dissatisfied with the response.

  
  


    “That’s one thing cleared up, but I’m not finished yet. That’s not the apology I came here for.” Chuck sighed in exasperation, but held a steady tone.

  
  


    “And I will say what I said before: I can’t apologize if I have nothing to be sorry for.”

  
  


    “Nothing to be sorry for?!”

  
  


    “I did what I had to do! To create the world, I had to lock Amara away. And when the Mark corrupted you and I saw that you posed  threat to humankind, I did the same with you.”

  
  


    “No, you betrayed me. You gave me the Mark to lock her away, and when it changed me, when it did what the Mark inevitably does… You threw me away.”

  
  


    “No, son. The Mark--You always cast a jaundiced glance at humans. The Mark didn’t change you. It just made you more of what you already were.” 

  
  


    “What I was was your son… Your child!”

  
  


    “Why should I put you first above all others?” Lucifer growled under his breath, because He just wasn’t getting it. 

  
  


    “Everything is “Because I told you so, because it  _ had _ to be done,” with you. You always have to be justified in your actions. Alright, fine. Big picture? You did what you had to do; that’s great. Little picture? You  **sucked** at being a dad.”

  
  


    “Okay, maybe I didn’t handle everything perfectly. But tell me, could I have kept humankind safe with you on the board? I know about your little bid to replace me with the angels. Okay, “New God,” what would you have done about you?”

  
  


    “That is not the point!” Lucifer was barely keeping himself from shouting.

  
  


    “Father, he’s right,” Michael agreed quietly. The four turned their gazes on him in surprise. Michael was unfazed, letting some of his bitterness seep into his voice as he continued. “You have done nothing thus far except try to prove that you were right in all of your prior decisions, but that is not what matters in this conversation. All Lucifer wants is an apology for what has been done to him.”

  
  


    “What would you have done? What would either of you have done?” Lucifer cast his gaze downward in pain before making eye contact with Chuck.   

  
  


    “It doesn’t matter. You were my father, and you forsook me.” Chuck, drew in a breath, expression now mirroring Lucifer’s, millennia of heartbreak and regret rising to the surface at that response.

  
  


    “I did… I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites… But you… You were mine…” Lucifer’s expression morphed into disbelief and awe, Michael smiling sadly. “I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most… Because I thought you were strong enough to bear it… And when I saw that I was wrong, when I watched my choice… Devour my… Most cherished son… I hated myself.” Chuck fought back tears, unable to help the shake in his voice. “And so I punished you… And I am so sorry.” Lucifer let out a gasp and took in a breath of fresh air, finally understanding, finally hearing the words he’d so desperately needed. He looked at Chuck, and gave him one of his first genuine smiles in a long time. Sam and Dean let out relieved breaths. “And Michael--”

  
  


    “You left us,” he began, eyes flashing blue. “You left all of us after that, but… We know why you did now. You were devastated, and you were never the same, so you stepped back, left us to make our own decisions, walk our own paths… There’s nothing for us to forgive. Our decisions are our own, our mistakes our own faults… But we need you to come back now, if only until the Amara situation is settled.” Chuck nodded.

  
  


    “So, are we good here?” Dean asked, effectively shattering what was getting just a bit too overly emotional for his tastes.

  
  


    “Yes, Dean. We’re good,” Chuck replied, smiling and standing; the others sitting down joined him.

  
  


    “So what now?” Sam asked. 

  
  


    “We trap Amara, put her back in the box. You were right, Dean. She needs to be destroyed, but I won’t kill her.”

  
  


    “Why not?” Dean questioned in concern.

  
  


    “Amara’s been caged for billions of years, but, you know, she was always there. She had to be there. She is darkness and I am light; one can’t exist without the other. If you blow one of us up, then, I mean--”

  
  


    “It wouldn’t be a good thing,” Lucifer finished.

  
  


    “It’d be really not a good thing. Like, end of reality, not good.”

  
  


    “Okay,” Sam replied. “So we gift-wrap Amara. I mean, we got the team back together, so--”

  
  


    “Not quite,” Chuck told him. “We’re still a few members short of the original lineup.”

  
  


    “Yeah, first time, it took the combined strength of me and my brothers to weaken Amara before…” He gently pat Chuck on the back. “Daddy-o finished her off.”

  
  


    “Yeah, even then, it was close. No, with just the two of us, we’ll lose.”

  
  


    “Okay, so, what, we need more group therapy between you and the archangels if we want to have a shot?” Dean asked. Chuck sighed, dreading the direction the conversation was going in.

  
  


    “Even though Michael’s now in a condition to fight, it’s still outside of my power to bring Gabriel and Raphael back.” The youngest archangel in question raised an eyebrow at that statement, much to Lucifer’s confusion.

  
  


    “But you restored Castiel,” Sam pointed out.

  
  


    “Archangels are different. They’re the stuff of primordial creation. Rebuilding them, it’s--It’s time we don’t have.”

  
  


    “No time to bring back Gabriel, huh?” Everyone looked to who they thought was Michael, all confused except Sam, who looked at him in fond exasperation. A flash of bright light from Michael had the Winchesters shielding their eyes as Gabriel emerged, standing by his eldest brother’s side with his arms crossed and face expectant. “Surprise!” he exclaimed with false excitement. 

  
  


    “Gabriel?” Chuck and Lucifer asked at the same time. Dean looked as if he was over the whole situation, Sam was shaking his head, and Michael looked unamused, but not surprised. Lucifer turned to him in disbelief.

  
  


    “You knew?” Lucifer questioned him. “He’s been with you this whole time?”

  
  


    “Hey, we didn’t know until Michael showed up out of the blue, worried about you,” Dean informed him.

  
  


    “Who do you think got me out of the Cage, Lucifer? I wasn't happy to be released under the circumstances, what with time travel and such being involved, but I wasn’t given much of a choice. However, I was able to find you, and for that I am grateful.”

  
  


    “And he’s our brother. You know how I get about family,” Gabriel added. Chuck had an unreadable expression on his face; whether or not the revelation was new or if he was aware of other things was unclear.  

  
  


    “Okay. That’s three archangels. I don’t suppose Raphael’s hiding in there somewhere?” Dean asked, gesturing to the three. 

  
  


    “Wait. Gabriel, when you came back, you said that the four of you and  _ Cas _ could stop Amara… But he’s not an archangel.” At Sam’s statement, Lucifer and Chuck throwing disapproving looks Gabriel’s way while Michael put two and two together, outraged. 

  
  


    “Father, that’s madness! You know what happened to the first.”

  
  


    “Castiel’s not like that. He’s stronger, wiser, different. He understands being an angel and being human, right from wrong, free will. He’ll survive! I know he will! Whether he’ll change in time for our meeting with Amara is the question. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  
  


    “Survive what?” Dean asked, worry and suspicion beginning to cloud all his other senses. Chuck immediately stopped explaining.

  
  


    “I’ve said too much.”

  
  


    “No, you haven’t. Survive what?” he asked again, tone becoming threatening. Chuck refused to answer and Lucifer held his tongue in concern for Castiel’s reaction. The angel in question was now hyper aware of the conversation, just as curious and worried as Dean. It was Gabriel who reluctantly answered him.

  
  


    “Becoming an archangel.”

 

Closing A/N: I’ve really enjoyed the last several episodes of the show and was extremely anxiously excited for the end of the season… and then THE SECOND TO LAST EPISODE HAPPENED. I did a lot of distressed screaming, for obvious reasons. And then the finale happened. You’d think after 9 seasons the boys would know not to trust angels, Castiel aside. ANYWAY, school’s out, summer’s here, and more on Castiel’s reaction to all of this, and a conversation with Chuck, next chapter.


	14. Penultimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck explains what's been going on with Castiel, the boys rally the troops, and the fight against Amara goes about as well as you could expect--Awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our penultimate chapter (can you tell I couldn't think of a title?). We're almost at the end, guys! Thanks for reading this far!!!

Chapter Fourteen: Penultimate

  
  


A/N: Okay, so we’ll either have one or two more chapters depending, which could lead to a possible sequel (if you guys are interested in one, anyway), which would probably pretty canon divergent from season 12. Just a heads up plot wise. Anyway, here’s the next chapter.

  
  


    When Castiel came back to himself, he found himself much more refreshed and not on the verge of passing out from indescribable pain. He also found himself face to face with his Father, and it took him a moment to process the sight and put the pieces together. Chuck had never been a prophet. He’d just been his Father in disguise, getting a front row seat to all the action. It would certainly explain why he was the only prophet who could see whole visions of the future, or why he was the only prophet who’d ever been under archangelic protection. Looks may be deceiving, but there was no doubting the amount of raw power hidden just below the surface of the “Chuck” vessel, however contained.

  
  


    He listened to Lucifer and Michael discuss Chuck’s return before he and Lucifer were once again face to face with their Father. Castiel… Didn’t exactly know how to feel about the situation. For years, Chuck had been absent, as greater evil after greater evil threatened humans, angels, and the world as they all knew it. And he’d done nothing. But now he was here, helping the Winchesters, helping them. It… It didn’t make sense.

  
  


    “Listen, I know I’ve been gone, for a while. I missed a few million birthdays,” he heard Chuck begin.

  
  


    “Yeah, and then the second your apes send a distress flare, boom! Daddy’s home,” he heard Lucifer retort. Castiel recoiled at the sound of his voice being used that way.

  
  


    “No, that’s not what happened.” Castiel didn’t hear much after that. He felt strong levels of anger, the feeling of being wronged, and pain. He registered the blaring of rock music in the background and Michael’s presence before he was left to his own thoughts. It wasn’t until Sam and Dean barged into the room that he was pulled out of his thoughts. Lucifer and Michael wanted to talk to Chuck. Well… That would go… Interestingly… Curious enough to fully tune into the conversation, Castiel was shocked to find Chuck knew nothing about Michael’s experiences in the Cage. Michael had divulged many of the horrific events with Lucifer the previous night, when it was just those two locked in Sam’s room. 

  
  


_ “The Cage, it… It fed off of my worst fears. At first, I watched Heaven and Earth as they were razed to the ground, the angels’ worst fears confirmed. As time went on, however… The images became more personal. They… They were about  _ **_you_ ** _ , Lucifer.” _

  
  


_     “Me?” _

  
  


_     “Some creature took your form, said the most vile things, how you never loved me, how you’d love nothing more than to tear me apart, day after day after day. When it got tired of my attempts at ignoring it, it began harming me, the Cage weakening my power just enough to deter any successful attempts at retaliation or escape. It began with beating me for a few days, then it started bringing knives and sharp objects with it. When that wasn’t enough, it broke bones, cut at body parts. And then, my wings… And the whole time, it wore your face, imitated your voice, and I just couldn’t. Take it.” _

  
  


    And Chuck knew nothing about what was happening? Castiel knew he would never want for such things to befall anyone, especially his sons, but still… 

  
  


    “I designed the Cage to contain you, to punish you. It was not built for more than one. I don’t know why it decided to punish Michael--maybe because of his aura, his ties to Heaven, his ties to you--but I would  **never** wish all those horrible things on anyone, especially one of my sons. I never monitored what the Cage did, only if it contained you. I had no idea it was capable of such things, and for that, I’m sorry, both of you.” Michael took the apology without a fuss, but Lucifer wasn’t finished.

  
  


    “That’s one thing cleared up, but I’m not finished yet. That’s not the apology I came here for.” 

  
  


    “And I will say what I said before: I can’t apologize if I have nothing to be sorry for.” Lucifer’s anger swelled dangerously.

  
  


    “Nothing to be sorry for?!”

  
  


    “I did what I had to do! To create the world, I had to lock Amara away. And when the Mark corrupted you and I saw that you posed  threat to humankind, I did the same with you.” Castiel thought that sounded a bit harsh.

  
  


    “No, you betrayed me. You gave me the Mark to lock her away, and when it changed me, when it did what the Mark inevitably does… You threw me away.”

  
  


    “No, son. The Mark--You always cast a jaundiced glance at humans. The Mark didn’t change you. It just made you more of what you already were.” And what was Lucifer exactly? Was he a monster, an outcast, a failure, a disappointment? For having a different opinion? True, Lucifer should not have gone as far as leading a rebellion, but-- 

  
  


    “What I was was your son… Your child!” Exactly.

  
  


    “Why should I put you first above all others?” Castiel heard Lucifer growl, felt his frustration rise. 

  
  


    “Everything is “Because I told you so, because it  _ had _ to be done,” with you. You always have to be justified in your actions. Alright, fine. Big picture? You did what you had to do; that’s great. Little picture? You  **sucked** at being a dad.”

  
  


    “Okay, maybe I didn’t handle everything perfectly. But tell me, could I have kept humankind safe with you on the board? I know about your little bid to replace me with the angels. Okay, “New God,” what would you have done about you?”

  
  


    “That is not the point!” Castiel felt Lucifer try to restrain himself from exploding with his anger. The conversation had gotten off topic somehow. They weren’t talking about the Mark and Fall directly anymore. The conversation was more, “If you were me, what would you do? How would you see things?” But that wasn’t what mattered at the moment.

  
  


    “Father, he’s right,” Michael agreed quietly. Everyone turned to stare at Michael in surprise. Michael didn’t seem affected, nothing but the bitterness in his voice shedding light on his feelings. “You have done nothing thus far except try to prove that you were right in all of your prior decisions, but that is not what matters in this conversation. All Lucifer wants is an apology for what has been done to him.” Chuck looked desperate to be heard, understood, but it was obvious he knew this topic was closed for discussion.

  
  


    “What would you have done? What would either of you have done?” Lucifer looked down and Castiel was surprised to feel how hurt Lucifer seemed to be. It showed in the slight shake of his voice, how he could barely look Chuck in the eye.  

  
  


    “It doesn’t matter. You were my father, and you forsook me.” He heard Chuck draw in a breath, saw and heard the same hurt in Him.

  
  


    “I did… I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites… But you… You were mine…” Castiel felt Lucifer’s hurt subside somewhat as shock and awe began replacing it. “I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most… Because I thought you were strong enough to bear it… And when I saw that I was wrong, when I watched my choice… Devour my… Most cherished son… I hated myself.” Chuck seemed to be fighting back tears, and his voice shook as he finally said, “And so I punished you… And I am so sorry.” Castiel watched the tension in the room reach an all time high. There were the words Lucifer had been looking for. The question on everyone’s mind was if he would accept the apology. If the weight lifted from Lucifer’s mind and being was any indication, and the genuine, honest smile Lucifer gave Him, the answer was yes. 

  
  


    Castiel felt relief flood him as the conversation winded down. The way Michael was talking, however, had him slightly confused. For some reason, something was… Off.  _ Us, we _ and  _ our _ didn’t quite seem to indicate him and Lucifer, or even all angels in general. It was almost as if it wasn’t Michael talking… As he puzzled over this, the other five discussed just what they were going to do about Amara when Chuck tried to explain why he couldn’t bring Gabriel back. He winced at that. So Chuck didn’t know. That was… Surprising. He froze when Michael, in a sassy, sarcastic, definitely  **not** Michael way, asked, “No time to bring back Gabriel, huh?” Oh. OH. Well… That happened. So this is what he’s been up to since the time travel. In a flash of light that had Sam and Dean shielding their eyes, Gabriel appeared, standing next to Michael, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, waiting for a reaction with an unenthusiastic, “Surprise!”

  
  


    “Gabriel?” Castiel heard Chuck and Lucifer ask at the same time. Lucifer turned to Michael in disbelief, taking in the “Really?” look on his face that was anything but surprised. 

  
  


    “Who do you think got me out of the Cage, Lucifer? I wasn't happy to be released under the circumstances, what with time travel and such being involved, but I wasn’t given much of a choice. However, I was able to find you, and for that I am grateful.” 

  
  


    “And he’s our brother. You know how I get about family,” Gabriel chimed in. Chuck had an unreadable expression on his face. He either knew much more than he was letting on, or he knew much less than he wanted to. 

  
  


    “Okay. That’s three archangels. I don’t suppose Raphael’s hiding in there somewhere?” Dean asked as he gestured to the three archangels.  

  
  


    “Wait. Gabriel, when you came back, you said that the four of you and  _ Cas _ could stop Amara… But he’s not an archangel.” He could help stop Amara? Isn’t that what he was doing by being Lucifer’s vessel? But no, he knew the story, the four archangels and Chuck battling and defeating Amara. As Sam said, he was no archangel, not even close, so what…? Unless… Before he could dwell too much on the thought, Sam’s statement set off a chain reaction in his brothers and Chuck, Lucifer and Chuck giving Gabriel “the look,” Gabriel looking as if he wanted to disappear from the room, and Michael sounding as if someone had proposed they restart the Apocalypse.

  
  


    “Father, that’s madness! You know what happened to the first.” The first?

  
  


    “Castiel’s not like that. He’s stronger, wiser, different. He understands being an angel and being human, right from wrong, free will. He’ll survive! I know he will! Whether he’ll change in time for our meeting with Amara is the question. We don’t have a lot of time.” Time for what change? And  _ survive?! _

  
  


    “Survive what?” Dean asked, and Castiel could feel his worry and suspicion from here. His question exactly. Chuck immediately stopped explaining, suddenly nervous.

  
  


    “I’ve said too much.”

  
  


    “No, you haven’t. Survive what?” Dean asked again, sounding almost threatening. Chuck wouldn’t answer, and Castiel felt a strange feeling sweep through Lucifer. He knew. He knew what they were talking about and wouldn’t say. Gabriel was the one who finally answered.

  
  


    “Becoming an archangel.” Lucifer looked away and Chuck gulped as Sam and Dean turned to Him in unison.

  
  


    “And you said he had to  _ survive _ the process?” Sam questioned. “As in, he could probably die,  **will** probably die with how you and Michael were talking?” Dean’s hands clenched into fists, and it took Sam way too much effort to hold him back as he lunged at Chuck.

  
  


    “Reverse it! Stop it! Do whatever it is you need to do you--!”

  
  


    “I can’t, Dean! … Not when the process is this far along.”

  
  


    “And how far along is it exactly? Why didn’t we know?” Without warning there was another blinding flash and Lucifer found himself outside of Castiel’s vessel, momentarily disoriented and confused. Castiel turned to Dean with a resigned look on his face.

  
  


    “Do you remember when you returned to the bunker and found me in the library, the power surge that happened to me?” Dean nodded. “That was the first time it happened. There were other, lesser instances where the power flares happened as well. The most recent one would be when we were ambushed in the diner--”

  
  


    “By Dmitri and his followers. All he told me was that Lucifer was possessing you,” Michael responded.

  
  


    “Cassie there also managed to explode an angel with the snap of his fingers before I delivered a message to good ol’ Dmitri. It was actually a very satisfying sight.” Everyone gave Lucifer a look. “What? It was.”

  
  


    “Any side effects afterwards?” Chuck questioned, returning his attention to Castiel.

  
  


    “Exhaustion, loss of the use of my grace for a time, inability to heal, strong emotional outbursts. Many of the symptoms faded, except for the outbursts. I’ve lost my self control more than once since the first time.”

  
  


    “And because me and my grace were present in his vessel, there were times where I could dampen the power surges. You know, those lesser instances you mentioned? Now though, I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” Castiel looked to Lucifer in appreciation, and the Devil got the memo, shooting him a shameless grin and a shrug.

  
  


    “What did you do to him?” Dean asked now that he’d calmed down somewhat. “Why did you…?” Castiel was immediately at his side, attempting to comfort him, and Chuck summoned up a few more chairs.

  
  


    “You might want to take a seat. It’s a lot to take in.” They all took the offered seats, seated beside their significant others. Castiel took Dean’s hand and, surprisingly, Dean didn’t protest. Instead he squeezed, hard, and Castiel stroked a thumb over his knuckles reassuringly. Chuck took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to put things. “Like I said earlier, archangels take much longer to rebuild than your standard angel. They’re the most powerful of the angels and are made from materials from the beginning of creation. If I were in a rush, I could probably bring one of them back in a little under a year, if I had the right materials. If I did that, however, it’s likely I’ll have made a mistake in the rebuilding, and that could alter the slightest thing… Or the archangel’s whole character. For example, take Gabriel.” The archangel in question looked to Chuck with a smirk that had Chuck laughing affectionately.

  
  


    “If he had truly died and I’d tried bringing him back in a rush, the smallest change in rebuilding him could change his excitable, fun-loving nature to murderous, condescending, spiteful even.” Gabriel paled at that and Sam’s eyes widened in alarm. “Luckily,” Chuck hurriedly assured them, “That hasn’t and will not happen.”   

  
  


    “So you needed a faster, safer way to create archangels, should the situation call for it,” Castiel stated. Chuck nodded.

  
  


    “No one could ever replace one of the four, not really, but I could at least recreate the power of one of the four. The process was simple enough. Once I was sure the angel I chose was strong enough to bear it, I infused a part of my grace with theirs, which would cause their power to grow exponentially. Eventually, they would fuse completely, and if my calculations are right, their new power level would rival even yours, Michael.” The eldest of the angels in the room raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Lucifer looked a bit insulted that Chuck hadn’t said him. “I knew that the transition phase wouldn’t be easy, but there wasn’t a way for me to know any side effects unless I tested it…” Stricken looks appeared on Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer’s faces. “One of the first lower level angels I created was brave enough to volunteer for the process. He… Didn’t take to it too well… Within days, he became the complete opposite of himself, within a week, a danger to everyone around him. All the while, my grace slowly burned through his being until… Until one day he just ceased to exist, his presence gone, even from…” Chuck decided not to mention the Empty. He’d rather not have to explain  **that** . “He wasn’t strong enough.”

  
  


    “And you think I am?” Castiel questioned nervously.

  
  


    “I  **know** that you are. Over the last few months, your powers have grown, your wings have healed remarkably well with a little help from Gabriel.” Lucifer had the decency to look sheepish when Castiel threw him a glare. “And your and Dean’s bond is as strong as ever. You’re doing much better than I could ever imagine.”

  
  


    “When should the process be finished?” At that, Chuck sighed again.

  
  


    “I don’t know. You’ve been going through the process for months, but there’s no real way to tell how much longer it’ll take.”

  
  


    “But if he changes soon, he’ll be strong enough to help you defeat Amara?” Dean asked, a little hopeful.

  
  


    “In theory, yes.” Dean leveled Chuck with a look.

  
  


    “In  _ theory? _ ”

  
  


    “Like I said before, even with Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel at my side, it was a close fight. One wrong move could’ve turned the tide in her favor and then… Well, you know how it is. And Castiel will have new levels of power, new abilities to navigate even if he did change in time.”

  
  


    “And if he doesn’t change in time?” Gabriel asked fearfully. “Or something goes wrong?”

  
  


    “Then we’ll need a lot of firepower to even the odds,” Chuck responded. “That’s probably our safest option at the moment. I don’t want to rest our odds completely on Castiel.”

  
  


    “So, what do you need?” Sam asked.

  
  


    “What’ve you got? What do we bring to the table that could make up for archangel power?”

  
  


    “What about… Crowley?” Dean piped up. “I mean, demon power, former King of Hell? He was a player in his day.”

  
  


    “Can you convince him?” Chuck asked. Dean shrugged.

  
  


    “I know him better than most people. He’ll listen.” Chuck placed protection and a bit of grace on Dean for the trip. 

  
  


    “We have the angels,” Lucifer remarked. Chuck looked to him worriedly.

  
  


    “I’ll go with him,” Michael and Castiel claimed at the same time, much to each other’s confusion.

  
  


    “They will trust me if I accompany him. It made them more tolerant to his presence before,” Michael told Castiel.

  
  


    “I need to explain the situation, and why the last time you were there, Lucifer was possessing me. You don’t know the full story; I do,” Castiel replied.

  
  


    “You can both go,” Chuck declared. “Just make sure they’re all on board with the idea.” 

  
  


    “Rowena,” Sam offered. “I mean, she’s a snake, but she’s a powerful witch, and she’s got the Book of the Damned.”

  
  


    “You really think she’d be on board with this? Amara already has her on her radar. If anything, she’s probably planning a way to hightail it out of here before the final showdown,” Dean pointed out.

  
  


    “Maybe,” Sam agreed. “But now we have something she can’t resist.” They both looked to Chuck, then back to each other. “A new all powerful being to suck up to and ‘help.’”

  
  


    “Alright, good point, but we’d have to--”

  
  


    “Got her,” Chuck interrupted him. “Let me just…” Sam gasped as Chuck layered several protective spells and a bit of grace on him. He also found himself holding part of the skull of an animal.

  
  


    “Thanks.” 

  
  


    “Let me go with him,” Gabriel insisted. “If she won’t talk to him, she’ll certainly talk to me.” He briefly remembered meeting her down in Hell as Sam was in the Cage with Lucifer. Sam smiled to him gratefully, and Chuck gave him an understanding smile.

  
  


    “Sounds like a plan,” He stated after everyone had shared their ideas. They moved themselves to the war room, gathering around the table to lay out a visual of the plan.

  
  


    “Yeah, but getting these groups to enlist and then work together isn’t going to be easy,” Sam stated. 

  
  


    “Couldn’t you just compel them?” Dean questioned, opting to burn off some nervous energy, pacing. 

  
  


    “I invented free will for a reason,” Chuck answered.

  
  


    “So we’re tying our hands on principle?”

  
  


    “No, you can’t make an effective soldier by force. They have to choose this fight.”

  
  


    “But they’re gonna want to know they’re backing a winner.”

  
  


    “So…?” Lucifer asked, gesturing towards Chuck and asking them to finish the sentence. 

  
  


    Sam chuckled, “So we’re gonna play the God card.”

  
  


    “And after?”

  
  


    “We assemble our band of brothers, hit Amara with everything we’ve got. Then, when she’s weak--”

  
  


    “--I finish her off,” Chuck stated as Sam pointed to him.

  
  


    “So, a page from the original playbook. This time with witches and demons subbing for an archangel.”

  
  


    “Exactly,” Lucifer told him.

  
  


    “I still don’t like it,” Dean piped up. “But why trap her when you could kill her, you know. I--I mean, you got to admit, there’s a lot less room for error if you shoot to kill.” Castiel and Gabriel looked to Dean in concern while Michael raised an eyebrow, unamused.

  
  


    “I explained why,” Chuck reminded him.

  
  


    “Right, but why keep her in play? So she can escape and we can go through this all over again?”

  
  


    “Dean, what is this about?” Sam asked, and Castiel seemed to have the same question. Dean sounded frantic and desperate, and it was a bit worrisome.

  
  


    “I--Nothing. Am I the only one thinking rational here?”

  
  


    “It’s about her,” Lucifer responded. “Sam, it’s about his girlfriend.” Castiel glared.

  
  


    “Lucifer,” Michael began, attempting to stop him from starting something.

  
  


    “Okay, shut up,” Dean warned him.

  
  


    “I mean, think about it. Dean Winchester meets the biggest evil in the universe, and he takes a pass? Come on. Now he wants Daddy to do what he couldn’t.” Everyone’s gazes moved to him.

  
  


    “Is he right?” Sam asked.

  
  


    “Oh, I’m not getting into it with him. Not going to happen.”

  
  


   “Hey, Dean. Come on, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” He looked to Chuck and his brothers. “We opened a vein for you two.” Lucifer eyed him closely.

  
  


    “Lucifer, that’s enough,” Michael told him.

  
  


    “I tried to kill her,” Dean admitted, remembering how his angel blade shattered to pieces instead of stabbing her. “It didn’t work.” Everyone but Chuck and Castiel eyed him curiously.

  
  


    “Maybe it didn’t work because you didn’t want it to work,” Chuck told him. “Maybe… You didn’t want to kill her.”

  
  


    “You want God to kill Amara because… You don’t want Amara to be killed?” Sam asked in confusion.

  
  


    “Yeah, maybe there’s a part of me that just can’t hurt her… But if she’s already dead--”

  
  


    “Then she’s already dead. Right…”

  
  


    “Well, that got weird,” Lucifer remarked after an awkward silence.

  
  


    “Dean,” Sam scoffed. “We always sweat this stuff, these choices. But, for once, we have  **God** on our side. I mean, for once, we can actually just do things  **His** way.” The archangels eyed the two unsurely, wondering if they’d just signed up to be part of a plan that was doomed to fail. Dean processed the the statement for a moment before turning to Sam, then to Chuck, who gave him a look that said, “Ready to go?” Dean nodded. With a motion of his finger, everyone but Him disappeared from the bunker, and Chuck hoped to the cosmos that their plan worked.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Crowley looked up from his throne at the presence of another, smirking before calling out, “Stealing my moves, Dean?” Dean emerged from the just out of view doorway, stopping when he was straight across from him. “Let me guess: you got Lucifer back into the fold, he snapped you here--”

  
  


    “No, it wasn’t Lucifer.” Crowley shrugged, about to finish yet another drink when Dean snatched the glass from his grasp and poured it out.

  
  


    “Ah ah ah! It’s time to sober up.” He made a face. “Yeah, you smell like a dumpster… Inside a liquor barn.” Crowley narrowed his eyes at him.

  
  


    “What’s this? Concern for me? I appreciate your attempts at bromantic rekindling, but I think we both agree that ship has sailed.”

  
  


    “That’s not what this is about,” Dean told him seriously. “We need your help. We’re gathering an army to fight the Darkness, and we figured, well, demons pack firepower. Think you could rally them?”

  
  


    “If by rally them, you mean get them to actually listen? No.” He explained the situation, how the demons saw him as a hopeless ruler, how Hell would end up just as it always had, with him on the throne, even worse off than they were before. When he asked them to stay by his side, they scoffed and left. “Game of thrones. It’s musical chairs. Still… I wanted it--To go out with the crown on my head!”

  
  


    “And that’s what you offered them, a chance to stroke your ego? And you wonder why they said no.” Dean walked around after having listened to the tale. “Well, we’ve got something better--A plan. Now, you can sit on the sidelines and watch the world die… Or you can fight.” Crowley looked away. “You know, to be king again… Maybe you need to remember how to be a soldier.” Crowley considered the statement before looking back at Dean.

  
  


    “What’s the plan?”

  
  


    “We go in guns blazing, attacking at full power, demons, angels, then witches. After that, it’s the archangels’ turn. We throw everything we’ve got at her, God puts her away for good, and then you can go back to drinking yourself into oblivion.” Crowley scoffed at the mention of God, but if the protective aura around Dean said anything, something more powerful than he’d ever felt was at work here, more powerful than  _ Lucifer _ of all people.

  
  


    “It’s suicide.” Dean wasn’t hearing a no… “But I’m in.” 

  
  


    “Let’s go.”    

  
  


XxX 

  
  


    “You’ve been gone for some time,” Ameliel told Michael when he suddenly appeared in a council room full of jumpy angels. They eyed Lucifer and Castiel with disdain as they made their way to one of the gathering halls. “And it seems like you’ve been busy,” she observed, taking in the sight of Lucifer and Castiel in interest. “What’s happened down on Earth?”

  
  


    “The Winchesters are helping to gather an army to combat the Darkness, and while it’s not the most agreeable plan, its payoff would be enormous.” He, Lucifer, and Castiel settled at the front of the vast room that held a majority of Heaven’s forces. Michael looked to Lucifer. “Well, it was your plan. Care to address them?” Lucifer stepped forward, much to the ire of his audience. He caught insults like  _ serpent, accursed, traitor _ , but brushed them off as he began explaining.

  
  


    “So, as many of you already know, the Darkness is on Earth, and planning to destroy everything. Hell, Heaven, creation, all gone,” he snapped his fingers, causing a few to flinch. “ _ Poof! _ Just like that! Now we,” he pointed to himself, Michael, and Castiel. “Are here to ask for your help. The plan is… Pretty simple. Gather an army of some of the most powerful beings this side of the end of the world and pit them against Auntie Amara in one huge display of power. That includes all of you, all of the demons in Hell, and a few witches. The rest you leave up to us.”

  
  


    “And who is  _ us _ ?” a distrusting angel asked. Lucifer looked back to Michael and Castiel.

  
  


    Castiel sighed, stepping up and answering, “Myself, Lucifer, Michael, the Winchesters… Gabriel, and God.” There were many whispers at the mention of Gabriel, but the distrusting angel wasn’t convinced.

  
  


    “If this is such a great plan, let’s hear it from  _ Him _ ,” he stated. The room quieted.

  
  


    “In due time,” Castiel told them. The angel turned to him.

  
  


    “I can’t even look at you Castiel. Michael may trust the two of you, but we don’t. You’re no different than the Deceiver--”

  
  


    “Um, hey, I’m right here,” Lucifer reminded him.

  
  


    “Almost every moment I spent subordinating myself to Lucifer was a torment; he was burning through my vessel. But I would do it all over again, because even without Gabriel and Michael, through me, he and God, they would defeat the Darkness. If need be, I will go back to being a vessel…” They could feel the anguish and conviction in his voice, even with their distrust and hesitancy. “I am not here to argue, or to justify my actions. I’m here because our Father and his creations need you. I’m here to recruit you to the universe’s cause. That is my role in this fight. It’s God’s fight… You can play a role in that fight, too… If you join us.” There were contemplative looks, averted eyes, conflicted features, but as they all looked to one another, they all came to an agreement. Ameliel, feeling the shift in the atmosphere of the room, let out a sigh of relief.

  
  


    “So what’s the plan?” she asked them. 

  
  


    “You all launched a full scale smiting on Amara some time ago, and while it did not kill her, it was enough to weaken her, stun her. We simply ask for you to do so again,” Michael explained. “After the attacks by the demons and before the attacks by the witches unless we tell you otherwise. When she is weakened, myself, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Castiel will engage her and weaken her further, enough for Father to strike a final blow.”

  
  


    “That’s…” the distrustful angel began thoughtfully.

  
  


    “That’s a very simple plan,” Ameliel finished. “Though not without its risks.”

  
  


    “That’s right. But are we in agreement?” Castiel asked them. He received nods from all around the room. He looked to Michael and Lucifer, who seemed more at ease now that Heaven’s support had been won. Mission accomplished.

 

XxX 

  
  


    “We’ve got the owl feather and the yarrow root?” Rowena asked her companion. 

  
  


    “Check and check.”

  
  


    “Jaw of pig?”

  
  


    “Check,” Sam answered her, appearing at her side and slowly twirling the ingredient. Her companion eyed Sam up and down while Rowena glared.

  
  


    “What are you doing here, giant?” she demanded to know. She had her eyes set on the jaw he was holding. “Give it,” she commanded, taking a step forward.

  
  


    Stepping back, Sam told her, “Not ‘til we’ve talked.”

  
  


    ”You’ve walked right into a powerful coven--!”

  
  


    “Ah, it takes three for a coven,” she reminded her. Rowena closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down a bit. 

  
  


    “--Witch’s den without a weapon. I’ll turn you into a moose--An actual moose,” she threatened.

  
  


    “You can’t,” Sam told her smugly.

  
  


    “Read his aura! He under some potent pro-tec-tion.” She examined it quickly. “Never seen that before.” 

  
  


    “And he’s got me, of course,” Gabriel pointed out, walking up to Sam’s side out of nowhere with his arms crossed. “Hello, Rowena,” he told her with a charming smile that had her backing away a few paces in fear. 

  
  


    Her companion looked between the two in interest before shrugging. “Hear the man out.” Rowena sighed.

  
  


    “Well?” 

  
  


    “We need you,” Sam put it plainly. “And we’ve got God on our side this time.” Rowena chuckled in disbelief.

  
  


    “God’s back! You’ve tricked me before, Samuel. Why would I believe a word you say?”

  
  


     “It would explain that aura of protection. Not no regular magic.”

  
  


    “Clea, dear, is this how it’s going to be with us in Crete?” Clea quieted if only to satisfy Rowena. “Even if God’s back, why would I care? Hello, pagan here. I serve magic, not God.” She snatched the pig’s jaw. “Sorry, not interested.”

  
  


    “I am,” Clea spoke, drawing Rowena’s attention. “What, I can’t serve both?” She held up her cross necklace.

  
  


    “No,” Rowena began before Clea interrupted her.

  
  


    “Ro, you brought me a plan to escape. This here is an opportunity to fight and win.”

  
  


    “She’s right,” Sam claimed. 

  
  


    “Nobody’s talking to you, big and tall!” Gabriel clenched a fist, but kept his mouth shut. They needed Rowena alive and  _ well _ , not alive and gravely injured.

  
  


    “I can enlist others, sister witches,” Clea continued.

  
  


    “You’re  _ mad _ . We don’t stand a chance against Amara!”

  
  


    “Rowena, honey…” She held up a tarot card, the sun. Optimism, success, a dawn following the darkest night. “There is a chance.” Rowena sighed, asking herself why she put up with this nonsense, then looked to Sam and Gabriel.

  
  


    “And the plan?” she asked them.

  
  


    “The demons, angels, and then witches,” Clea raised an eyebrow while Rowena looked a bit shocked at the temporary allies they’d amassed. “In that order, will all launch a full scale attack on Amara, to stun her enough for Castiel and the archangels to weaken further.”

  
  


    “We battle her like in the good ol’ days, hit her with our best shot. Once she’s weak enough, we throw her over to Dad for the finish and  _ voila _ . No more Darkness. The world is safe and we can all go back to hating each other,” Gabriel proclaimed. Clea nodded.

  
  


    “Simple,” Rowena commented, “Bordering on insane.”

  
  


    “You still in?” Sam asked her. She gave him a devious smile after exchanging a glance with Clea. 

  
  


    “Of course.” 

  
  


XxX

  
  


    The plan was… Not going to plan, actually. At first, it seemed to be going quite well, after all of the arguing, of course. They’d all decided to meet up away from civilians and towns, in an abandoned power plant. There, Sam, Dean, the archangels, Castiel, Rowena, and Crowley met up with Chuck for one more runthrough of the plan, after letting some bygones be bygones, of course. Crowley seemed to take his reuniting with Lucifer well, teasing about the dog collar, and Lucifer was more than happy to play along. Rowena and Crowley exchanged indifferent greetings while Rowena showed a lot more confidence than she felt by brushing Lucifer off. Rowena and Crowley carefully eyed Gabriel, who raised an eyebrow at them. Michael looked them both over, unimpressed. Castiel nodded to Crowley and Rowena. It was then that Chuck appeared in a flash of blinding light in front of them.

  
  


    “Hello, my children.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, Michael stood attentively, Gabriel muffled a laugh, and Crowley looked to the Winchesters in disbelief before looking back at Chuck.

  
  


    “ _ Him? _ ”

  
  


    “Rowena. Crowley. It’s good to finally meet you in person.”

  
  


    “Sorry about, well, everything I’ve ever done in my life. Really, y-you can’t have been a fan,” Rowena addressed Him.

  
  


    “Oh, yeah. I’ve been quietly rooting against you both for some time now. Although, I can’t deny, you’re one of my guilty pleasures,” he admitted with a half smile.

  
  


    “Oh, God,” Rowena replied, flustered.

  
  


    “Oh,  _ God _ ,” Crowley stated with disgust. The three archangels glared at them both.

  
  


    “Alright, no flirting, and no fighting,” Dean told told them.

  
  


    “Yeah, and no deals,” Sam added. “No one talks about who is owed what if we survive this.”

  
  


    “No one likes each other. It doesn’t matter.” Dean looked to Chuck.

  
  


    “We only have the fight ahead,” Sam reminded them. 

  
  


    “Amara’s warded against me, for now. The second I drop the warding, she’ll show. She’ll be expecting a fight, and we’ll give it to her. Shock and awe.  **Shock** and  _ awe _ . You have your troops in position?” Rowena slowly raised her hand with a smile. Chuck cleared his throat. “Yes, Rowena?”

  
  


    “Fabulous plan… God, but doesn’t this strategy strike anyone as a bit as a wee bit un-strategic? Shouldn’t we at least try to catch her off guard?”

  
  


    “Is that sequence set in stone? Demon, angel, witch power?” From Crowley’s statement, the conversation descended into more arguments, Crowley claiming the weakest should attack first, indicating the witches. Lucifer seemed to agree with him, until he said that meant the demons. After that topic was halted in its tracks, Chuck continued explaining the plan. He would lock Amara away again with the Mark of Cain. When he asked if they were ready, Sam responded, and Dean, after being told he couldn’t bear the Mark again, grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the conversation, outraged. He was not happy with Sam withholding that piece of information from him, but with a bit of reassurance, Dean reluctantly accepted the fact. He did not want to lock his brother off once he went off the deep end, but if that’s what it took to keep Amara locked up… If that’s what he wanted, Dean would let it happen. God’s plan, right?

  
  


    When Rowena, Crowley, and Lucifer finished up their continued argument about who attacks first and why, which had Chuck altering the order of attacks to stop the arguing, Rowena contacted Amara through a spell, drawing her to their location. She smiled at Chuck, who smiled back reassuringly and dropped the warding. Upon meeting up with Amara outside, she revealed that she knew this was all a trap, but that all she really wanted was a one on one with her brother. Rowena, fearing for her life when Amara asked how she’d like to be repaid for bringing her here, answered with, “ _ Attenuare!” _ a lightning spell that didn’t seem to faze Amara whatsoever.

  
  


    “That,” she scoffed, “Tickles… Do you really think the power of one witch can defeat me?”

  
  


    “I’m not just one witch,” Rowena told her, and this time when she cast the spell, she had the full power of four other witches at her back, enough to momentarily stun Amara. 

  
  


    “Enough,” Amara declared, reflecting the spell at Rowena and knocking her back, frying the other four witches from the inside out in the process. “Points for trying.” As she advanced on Rowena, thunder crackled overhead and light poured from swirling storm clouds above. Amara, with a soft laugh, held her arms out in welcome, literally screaming at the heavens as the angels attempted to smite her as one, shaking the surrounding area on impact. Without giving her a moment to breathe, hordes of demons swooped down upon her, lifting her up and swiping at her, causing her to twist and struggle, blowing out a majority of the surrounding light sources. Crowley, upon hearing the commotion, joined in, temporarily leaving his vessel to ram Amara into an abandoned car on the property. Upon impact, he returned to his vessel and vanished out of sight. Amara, cut, bruised, and ragged, took a few seconds to catch her breath before getting to her feet and stumbling inside the factory, Sam holding a concerned Dean back as her eyes swept over each of them. When she saw Chuck, she took a few unsteady steps forward, gripping a railing to keep herself upright. “Hello, brother. You cheated… Again.” Before she could get too close to Him, Lucifer, with one of his stashed weapons, Michael, with his sword, Castiel, with his angel blade, and Gabriel, with his archangel blade, stabbed Amara through the chest rather forcefully, pulling a pained cry from her. 

  
  


    As they removed their weapons from her, she fell to the ground, and Lucifer went in for a killing blow. “Ah!” Chuck warned him, stopping his movement. “Son,” he said to him softly. Lucifer and the others took a few steps back as he addressed Amara, apologizing that they had to meet again this way, about everything before. She looked to him, seeking understanding, about why he would lock her up for millions of years, leaving her alone and afraid, begging for a way out. “The world needed to be born! And you wouldn’t let me!” he yelled in response.

  
  


    “That’s your story, not mine. The real reason you banished me, why I couldn’t be allowed to exist… You couldn’t stand it. No, we were equals.” She looked to their audience. “We weren’t great or powerful because we stood only in relation to each other.” She scoffed at him. “You think you made the archangels to bring light?” She shook her head. “No. You made them to create lesser beings, to make you large.” She struggled to her feet. “To make you Lord! It was ego! You wanted to be big!” The archangels and Castiel looked on in despair and disbelief.

  
  


    Chuck nodded, telling her, “That’s true… But it isn’t the whole truth.” He talked about creation, how it just needed to be born, how it was always just  _ there _ , like He and Amara were, how magnificent it was. “I know you’ve seen it…” He looked briefly to Dean then back at her. “Felt it.”

  
  


    “It didn’t have to be like this,” she told him. “I loved you, brother.” She gave a pained laugh. “Well… You’ve won again.” Resignedly, she sighed, “Finish it. Kill me.” Chuck looked on the brink of tears as he steeled himself for what he was about to do.

  
  


    “I’m sorry,” he told her brokenly, before the Mark began searing itself back into place, making Sam cry out in pain as it began forming on his forearm. Dean held him firmly as Amara cried out in alarm. “I’m so sorry.”

  
  


    “No. Not again!” With surprising strength, she grabbed Chuck by the throat singlehandedly. “Not ever again!” Lucifer, with a roar, charged her, and the other three angels followed, only to be thrown back, colliding heavily with metal. “Goodbye, nephews,” she told them, banishing them from the area, their screams echoing.

  
  


    “Cas!” Dean yelled, rushing at Amara before he too was thrown back.

  
  


    As Chuck levitated in the air, clutching at his throat, Amara made it clear, “I’d die a million times, murder you a  **million** more, before going back there! Tell me… If you won’t change, why should I?!” 

  
  


    “Amara, no!” Dean told her. She spared him a glance before turning back to Chuck. Tendrils of darkness formed around her, predatorily circling Chuck before striking through him with precision, overwhelming him. 

  
  


    “Sorry,  _ brother _ .” With screams of agony and a blinding flash of light, Chuck tumbled to the ground, motionless. Taking in the sight, the brothers panicked. 

  
  


    “Amara, what have you done?”

  
  


    “He’s dead. God’s dead--”

  
  


    “No,” she interrupted Sam. “He’s dying. My brother will dim… And fade away into nothing. But not until he sees what comes next, not until he watches this world, everything he created, everything he loves, turn to ash… Welcome to the end.” Fully healed and furious, she was gone, leaving the brothers with an unconscious and fatally wounded Chuck, snuffing out their last spark of hope to stop the end of the world.

  
  


Closing A/N: If the ending seemed rushed it was because 90% of this chapter was basically show dialogue and I didn’t want to overload the chapter with that. So, it’s looking like one more chapter at the moment, with what would be chapter sixteen being a peek at a possible sequel, which will not be nearly as reliant on show dialogue. *blows out a huge breath* Jesus, there’s only one more real chapter left… I don’t think that’s hit me yet… Whelp, until next chapter…          


	15. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's our last chapter, folks. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Fifteen: New Beginnings

  
  


A/N: It’s the last chapter, folks. Excessive thank you’s will be written in the closing notes, but just a brief thank you for everyone who’s made it to this point in the fic, whether you’re a loyal reader or someone new to the fic, or fandom. This one’s for you! So without further adieu, here’s our last chapter!!!

  
  


    Gabriel sat up slowly with a groan, looking around at the place where he’d crashed. It looked like a meteor had just devastated the area. He sat in a huge crater, head slightly spinning, in… Nebraska. Jeez. Well, at least it was only a state away and not across the country, not that it would really matter since his wings were in working condition, but still. He hopped to his feet, scanning the surrounding area for any sign of his brothers when the sun caught his eye. Barely any time had passed since Amara had banished him, mere minutes, actually, so the sky shouldn’t have dimmed this much. Something was wrong with the  **sun** . Which meant--

  
  


    “Something happened to Father,” Michael sounded to his left. Gabriel looked to him, now in the form of a young John Winchester without Adam as a vessel, finding a disheveled Lucifer by his side.

  
  


    “Dad’s dying,” Lucifer confirmed. Gabriel caught his eye, and though Lucifer tried not to look too concerned, his eyes said it all: that thought terrified him, tore him up more than he wanted to admit.

  
  


    “But if he dies…” Gabriel began, looking back to the constantly dimming sun.

  
  


    “So does the rest of creation,” Lucifer finished for him solemnly. 

  
  


    “What do we do?” Lucifer looked to him incredulously. 

  
  


    “There’s nothing we  **can** do, brother. If Dad is dying, it’s because Auntie Amara left him just alive enough to watch everything he’s ever created cease to exist. She won, we lost.”

  
  


    “No, that’s not how this ends,” Gabriel insisted.

  
  


    “Then how does this end, Gabriel?” Michael asked. “If Amara did leave Father on Death’s doorstep, she is the only one who can heal him, and at this point, I doubt she would do so willingly.”

  
  


    “This world is not ending, not on my watch.” Michael scoffed at Gabriel’s stubbornness. 

  
  


    “And what good can you do in all of this? You alone cannot fix this.” Gabriel crossed his arms, face determined.

  
  


    “I won’t be alone. I’ve bet on the Winchesters before when the world was ending. I think they can pull it off again.” Michael looked like he was about to protest, but Lucifer spoke before him.

  
  


    “Go be with your soulmate, brother,” Lucifer told him softly. They shared a look, an understanding, a look that expressed that they both hoped this wasn’t the last time they saw each other. Gabriel nodded, giving Michael a half smile before turning to leave. “Wait! No goodbyes? Not even a hug for your favorite big brother?”

  
  


    Gabriel turned back to him with a smirk, and told him confidently, “I don’t need a goodbye, because this isn’t the end. Let’s save that for Sunday dinner.” With a wink, he was gone.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Dean was immediately at Castiel’s side when he could get to his feet, Sam at Chuck’s. “Cas?” Dean asked worriedly, helping him up.

  
  


    “I’m alright. Amara, she… She banished the archangels.”

  
  


    “To where?”

  
  


    “I don’t know.” Dean helped him up before his gaze turned to another member of the team, confused.

  
  


    “If she banished all the archangels, then why is Michael still here?” Castiel followed his gaze to the limp body a few feet away.

  
  


    “Because that’s not Michael,” Castiel told him after a moment of consideration. Dean turned at a groan from across the room; Sam had an arm around Chuck, gingerly helping him to his feet, asking if he was alright. Castiel was knelt down beside their fifth companion, touching two fingers to his forehead. He gasped awake, sitting up frantically, panting heavily. His head whipped around as he took in his surroundings before his eyes finally landed on them.

  
  


    “Castiel?” he asked uncertainly.

  
  


    “It’s me,” the angel confirmed. “How are you feeling?” 

  
  


    “Like it’s really good to have my body back.” He winced, putting a hand to the back of his head. “And like I got my head put through a wall.” Dean’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of his youngest brother.

  
  


    “Adam?” he asked in disbelief. Sam looked to him in shock before staring at Adam, like he couldn’t believe he was there.

  
  


    “The one and only,” Adam replied as Castiel helped him up. 

  
  


    “Is there any way we can help you, heal you?” Dean heard Sam ask as they approached.

  
  


    “You can’t,” Chuck began, voice quiet. “I--I--I suppose she could, maybe, but--” He sucked in a pained breath. “That’s never going to happen.” The door burst open, and Dean aimed his gun at the intruder, who turned out to be Rowena.

  
  


    “So that  _ was _ a gun in your pocket,” she remarked, a bit shellshocked. 

  
  


    “Well,” Crowley spoke up, appearing suddenly a few yards away. “That was a complete and utter dog’s breakfast, wasn’t it?”

  
  


    “I didn’t know dogs had breakfast,” Castiel commented, and Dean looked to him affectionately.

  
  


    “Just curious--Has anyone bothered to look outside?” Rowena questioned. She led the way out, the others following behind her, turning Dean in the other direction towards the not so bright looking sun.

  
  


    “What is it?” Dean asked after they’d all let it sink in.

  
  


    “It looks like the sun is--”

  
  


    “Dying,” Castiel finished for Sam. Adam looked at the angel, bewildered.

  
  


    “Is that possible?” he asked.

  
  


    “Why would Amara do that?”

  
  


    “The sun is the source of all life on Earth. Without it, everything just… Just wastes away.”

  
  


    “Let’s get the Hell out of here.” No sooner had Dean finished his sentence did the group find themselves standing in the bunker after a soft snap of fingers. They all looked around in bewilderment before Crowley pointed to Chuck.

  
  


    “You,” he accused.

  
  


    Chuck, smiling weakly, stated, “Still got a few tricks up my sleeve. I’m not dead y--” before collapsing into Sam’s arms. Sam exclaimed in alarm. “I should probably sit down,” He commented with a groan.

  
  


    “What do we do now?” Castiel questioned urgently. Dean paused before making his way to the kitchen, taking a six-pack out of the fridge, and chugging one bottle in about thirty seconds. Castiel frowned while Sam glared at him.

  
  


    “Really?!” Dean sighed.

  
  


    “Really. Look, Sam, we hit Amara with everything we had, and she walked it off. If you’ve got something for me to punch, shoot, or kill, let me know and I’ll do it. I’ll do it ‘til I die… But how are we supposed to fix the friggin’ sun?!” Sam quieted at that. They didn’t have a plan at the moment, but they couldn’t just sit by and do nothing when the fate of the world  **once again** rested on their shoulders. Dean announced he was going out, saying he was going on a beer run, but really just wanting some alone time with his angel. Castiel joined him as they headed towards the garage.

  
  


    Crowley, nursing a bottle of expensive, aged alcohol, watched Rowena cozy up to Chuck, trying to comfort him. She offered to make him tea, and came back a few minutes later with a cup for Him and herself. She talked about her earlier years, particularly about Crowley’s childhood, something about not wanting to wear pants and running around naked as the day he was born.

  
  


    “Adam and Eve were the same way…”

  
  


    “ _ Kids, _ ” He and Rowena claimed fondly with smiles.

  
  


    “I’m so glad the world is ending,” Crowley mumbled, drinking yet another glass. When Crowley heard footsteps, he immediately chirped, “Samantha.” Sam looked around the room in disbelief, then proceeded to lose his head as he tried to rally them to stop doing nothing and start planning a way to, after a reminder from Chuck about cosmic balance,  _ kill _ Amara, if such a thing could still be done at this point. Crowley lit up a bit at that, murmuring, “Bingo,” because they’d finally all come to the logical conclusion.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Dean and Castiel sat on the hood of the Impala, looking over the countryside and taking in the peace and quiet, while it lasted, at least. Neither really wanted to break the silence, but there was a tension in the air that needed to be broken. “How’re you holding up?” Dean asked Castiel quietly. “After the whole Lucifer thing and finding out about the end of the world. Again.” Castiel looked back at the sun, even more dim than it had been on the drive out here, a few miles from the bunker, and then at the countryside.

  
  


    “Better than I thought I’d be,” he settled on. “Dean, I’m so--”

  
  


    “Knock it off, Cas. Don’t apologize. You rode shotgun to Lucifer, and in the end, it was our best shot. Me and Sammy wouldn’t have done that.”

  
  


    “… I just wanted to help.”

  
  


    “And you do help. Every second you’re here for us helps; don’t ever forget that…” Dean paused and tried to steel himself for the topic he was about to bring up. “Listen, I know that things between us have been… Not so great lately, but--” Castiel stopped him before he could continue.

  
  


    “It’s in the past. There’s no use fretting over it during the end of the world, right?” Dean scoffed, but couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. 

  
  


    “Right.” They both laid back against the hood, staring at the now pinkening sky, clouds swirling overhead, a slight breeze gently ruffling their hair. Dean closed his eyes, and for a few minutes reveled in the sound of the wind, the birds, smooth, even breathing. Not wanting to break the silence, he reached over and gently took Castiel’s hand. The angel startled, but quickly recovered, squeezing Dean’s hand softly. One of them let out a content sigh, making the other laugh softly, freely. They opened their eyes and met each other’s gazes, and before either of them knew it, they found themselves rolling down the endless grassy expanse to the side of the road, laughing even when they finally stopped, holding each other, Castiel laying on top of Dean. Castiel laid his forehead on Dean’s as the two shared breath for a moment.

  
  


    “I will not let this be the end. When we fix the Darkness situation, I’ll do everything in my power to make you the happiest man alive,” Castiel promised him, sealing that promise with a sweet kiss. 

  
  


    Dean eagerly reciprocated, and when they broke apart he told him, “Being here with you, Cas, right here, right now, is enough.” Looking at Dean as if he were his whole world, Castiel leaned down for another kiss, more passionate than the last. They kissed like that for the next few minutes until Dean’s phone buzzed in his pocket. They broke apart, and Castiel got off of Dean, the two sitting up as he answered the call. “Yo,” he answered. His face turned serious and he listened to for a moment before saying, “We’re on our way.” He turned to Castiel, who gave him a questioning look. “Sam’s got something.” They got to their feet and jumped in the Impala, driving hurriedly back to the bunker. 

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Sam sat despondently with Adam, a few tables away from Chuck, Rowena, and Crowley in the library, waiting for Dean and Castiel to get back. They needed a plan, and fast, if they wanted even a sliver of a chance at saving the world, and he really wished they’d come up with a back-up plan when they still had all their reinforcements. “Do we have a plan?” Adam asked him quietly. Sam shook his head.

  
  


    “No, not yet.” Adam sighed, shaking his head.

  
  


    “Figures that just when things start looking up, it all comes crashing down on us.” Sam met his eyes as he asked, “Family curse much?” That drew a small smile out of Sam.

  
  


    “Yeah, maybe… I wish we could’ve gotten you back under better circumstances, but it’s great to have you back, Adam.” The youngest brother considered Sam for a moment. “I just wish we could make up for the last six years.”

  
  


    “Well, can’t worry about now, can you? … But it’s good to be back.” He and Sam stared at each other for a few moments. There was a lot of emotion in Adam’s eyes, and years worth of unresolved issues from when he’d first met Sam and Dean, but Sam could tell he was willing to start over with them, if they could get through the day, that is. Sam looked up at the sudden sound of wings to see Gabriel standing a few feet away. The whole room was on alert until they recognized him. Sam leapt out of his seat, throwing his arms around the archangel in relief.

  
  


    “Gabriel,” he exhaled into his hair. “You’re okay.” Gabriel chuckled into the hug before they pulled away, standing on his tiptoes to plant a brief kiss on Sam’s lips.

  
  


    “A little banged up from a crash landing, but yeah, I’m alright.” He turned to address the rest of the room when his eyes fell on Chuck, in pain, power dwindling, confirming his fear. Pale and panicked, he suddenly reappeared at his Father’s side, startling Rowena, and Chuck quickly reassured Gabriel that he was doing fine, for the moment. They may have been on the best of terms as of late, but Gabriel had loved his Father almost more than anything as a fledgling, even into his mature years, and still to this day. “Can I do anything to help you? Anything?” Gabriel asked Him, almost pleading. Chuck shook his head sadly.

  
  


    “Not even you can heal me, son,” He told him. Gabriel looked away in frustration, but accepted the fact. It was then that the door to the bunker creaked open, Dean and Castiel joining them all in the library. 

  
  


    “So, what’s the plan?” Dean asked once they were all there. 

  
  


    “Because of what Amara did to Chuck, the balance between light and darkness is beginning to shift more towards darkness. Since we couldn’t cage her, there’s only one thing left to do…” Sam sighed. “We have to kill her.”

  
  


    “Wait, so now you want to kill the Darkness?” Dean sighed before turning to Chuck. “You’re cool with this? ‘Cause, you know, last time…”

  
  


    “Look, Chuck’s dying,” Sam reminded him. Everyone in the room stared at him. They all knew it, but the words held a whole knew meaning now that they’d been spoken aloud. “Uh, no offense, God,” Sam added, looking to Chuck sheepishly.

  
  


    “Yeah, no, I-I’m dying,” Chuck agreed.

  
  


    “So, we don’t really have a choice. I mean, look. Y-You’ve got darkness and light. Y-You take one side away a-and--”

  
  


    “That upsets the scales-- The whole balance of the universe,” Castiel finished for him.  

  
  


    “Exactly. But you take both away, and now both sides are empty, so…”

  
  


    “Of course. It’s balanced.”

  
  


    “Right. Yes. Okay. Uh, and look. Hey, I’m game, but how exactly are we going to do this? I mean, Lucifer hit her with a-a Hand of God and, well, we saw how that turned out,” Dean pointed out.

  
  


    “She does seem impossible to destroy,” Castiel replied.  

  
  


    “… Is she, Chuck?” Sam asked. He sighed, reluctant to discuss the topic.

  
  


    “Well, I… I mean, well… I… I-I--”

  
  


    “Chuck!”

  
  


    “Dad!”

  
  


    “Father!”

  
  


    “Charles!” 

  
  


    Dean, Sam, Gabriel, Castiel and Rowena all exclaimed, and Chuck let out a bigger sigh. “Alright. Fine.” He got to his feet, walking around the room. “The Darkness might,  _ might, _ have a weakness. Light.” 

  
  


    He takes the bottle of alcohol from Crowley, who mutters, “He tells us now.”

  
  


    “What? I-I just wanted to trap her. I didn’t want to murder her.” 

  
  


    “Okay, but now that we’re trying to end her, how much light are we talking about?” Sam questioned.

  
  


    “I don’t know. 10,000 suns, set to supernova,” Chuck estimated as he sat down in a different chair.

  
  


    “Well, y-you’re God. So, just God ‘em up,” Dean stated as if it were easy.

  
  


    “Look at me. I’m… Not in the best shape right now.”

  
  


    “Okay! Um, that’s alright. Uh, we just need other ideas. Um…” Dean gave him a look. “Rowena! What about the Book of the Damned.” She scoffed.

  
  


    “Th-This is beyond--” she began.

  
  


    “Okay, Crowley?”

  
  


    “Oh, I’ve got nothing,” the demon remarked.

  
  


    “Well, what about souls? They fuel your demon deals,” Castiel stated. “Souls are living batteries. They’re full of energy. They’re full of light. Each one is as powerful as…” He shrugged. “100 suns?” he estimated.

  
  


    “H-He’s not wrong,” Rowena agreed, sounding a bit more hopeful.

  
  


    “Okay, so if we got this kind of juice, then what?” Dean asked.

  
  


    “You get me enough souls…” Rowena began, acting out grouping them close together. “I can build a bomb.”

  
  


    “Would that do the trick?” Dean asked Chuck.

  
  


    “Uh… Maybe.”

  
  


    Sam smiled and stated optimistically, “Alright. Plan B.”

  
  


    “Okay. How many souls are we talking here?” Dean asked Rowena.

  
  


    “The more the better,” she replied. 

  
  


    “Even if you could get that kind of firepower…” Crowley began, rising from his seat, still with a drink in hand. “You really think it would work?” 

  
  


    “I can ask the angels,” Castiel contributed. “Heaven is full of souls.”

  
  


    “Okay. Uh, what else we got?”

  
  


    “Ghosts,” Dean claimed. “Well, they’re just souls with baggage, right?”

  
  


    “Yeah, but we would need a whole lot of them,” Sam told him with a laugh. Dean thought for a second before it dawned on him.

  
  


    “Waverly Hills.” Sam chuckled at that.

  
  


    “Waverly Hills Sanatorium. Of course. Thousands died there.”

  
  


    “Ton of ghosts,” Dean agreed.

  
  


    “This is desperate… And stupid,” Crowley commented.

  
  


    “Well, desperate and stupid’s pretty much all we got right now,” Dean snapped at him.

  
  


    “Fine,” Crowley replied retaking his seat. “I’ll go raid Hell, and see what’s left.”

  
  


    “Alright,” Sam declared excitedly. “Let’s get to work.” Rowena procured a crystal with a spell and held it out to Dean.

  
  


    “Take this to trap the souls you find. When there’s enough of them in close proximity, hold it in your hand like so and say the magic word: haggis.” Dean raised an eyebrow, but took the crystal without a word, following Sam out to the garage. Crowley rose from his chair and disappeared with a sigh. Castiel disappeared in a flap of wings. Gabriel went back to Chuck’s side while Adam got up from his seat and joined Rowena, seeing if he could help her with anything. 

  
  


    Gabriel kneeled by Chuck’s side, taking his Father’s hand and using large amounts of grace, send healing pulses through Him. Chuck sighed, smiling sadly at his youngest son. “Not even the Archangel of Healing has the power to fix me,” Chuck told him softly.

  
  


    “Yeah? Well, I’m going to try anyway. And even if I can’t heal you back to full strength, I’m going to buy you as much time as I can…” he told Chuck before focusing back on the healing. “I can at least do this for you,” he mumbled under his breath.

  
  


    “You have nothing to make up for, son,” He stated, referring to his departure after the Fall. “That’s all in the past.” Gabriel didn’t answer, instead redoubling his efforts, however fruitless they might be.

  
  


    “We shouldn’t need ingredients for the spell, just the crystal,” Rowena told Adam. “I just need the spell’s specifics.” She procured the Book of the Damned from her bag and set it on the table, flipping to a section about explosive spells. Adam took a seat beside her, reading the page she’d turned to. She skimmed for the spell she was looking for. “All then we’ll have to do…”     

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Castiel followed the angel who’d been guarding the gates, who led him to Ameliel, who was deep in conversation with a few other higher ranked angels. “Ameliel,” Castiel addressed her as he entered the room. She turned to him expectantly and excused herself from the conversation she’d been wrapping up. 

  
  


    “Castiel,” she greeted him. “I assume since you’re here to ask something of us that your plan failed?” Castiel sighed.

  
  


    “Unfortunately, yes, but we have one last play against the Darkness. We’ll need souls to do it.” Ameliel looked to him in concern.

  
  


    “Souls? You want to put souls who have earned their eternal rest in Heaven at risk for the off chance that they  _ might _ save us all?”

  
  


    “I don’t like it any more than you do, but yes.” Ameliel averted her gaze, solemn and regretful.

  
  


    “Heaven cannot help you,” she replied quietly.

  
  


    “What?”

  
  


    “It is outside of my hands at this point. We’ve felt the shift in the balance of the universe. Our Father… His time is limited now, and a majority of us have given up hope that He can be saved. Even if I wanted to help you, I am but one in the Host. They have collectively agreed it is best to shut the Gates.” She scoffed. “Die with dignity, they said. If Michael could see them…”

  
  


    “I… Understand,” Castiel told her, resigned. She looked to him sadly.

  
  


    “You’re a good angel, Castiel, despite popular opinion here. I cannot help you now, but if you should need assistance in the future… I’ll be here.” He nodded.

  
  


    “Thank you,” he replied sincerely.

  
  


    “There is a dispute I must go and settle, but for what it’s worth, I hope that your plan succeeds.” She turned and left, and Castiel sighed in frustration.

  
  


    “So do I,” he mumbled to himself, heading back to the gates.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Crowley reappeared in a darker, quieter part of Hell, away from the main collection of damned souls at its center. Making his way through twisted, echoey corridors, he came upon a lone room at the end of a particularly narrow one, a room that only he knew how to open… Or so he thought. The door could only be unlocked by using his blood to trace the carving on the handle (because contrary to Rowena’s belief, he did find magic useful every now and again), but not only had it been opened, it had been taken off its hinges, splintered and lying in a pile a few feet inside. 

  
  


    The room had housed his secret stache of souls collected at some point during his crossroads career. Although they’d first been collected and hidden as a way to brag that he was in fact the King of the Crossroads, he’d ultimately decided to save them for a rainy day. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew souls were more powerful than they appeared. Apparently, his demons had other ideas. Not a single souls was left in the room. The furniture and the cages in the room had all but been reduced to dust. He sighed and took a deep breath before proceeding to put a hole in the wall next to him. How did they even  **find** this room, much less gather enough firepower to bust it open?

  
  


    Leaving the room, shaking bits of rubble and dust off his hand, he did a sweep of Hell, finding more than a few souls missing. What was worse was that many demons were missing as well, most likely the ones that made off with  **his** souls. And demons he did encounter saw the look of pure animosity in his eyes and ran the other direction. The last place he checked was his throne room, which had more than a few secrets hidden within (no souls, unfortunately). When he was sure that  **that** was still properly hidden, he sat down on his throne for a moment. If the angels were anything like the demons at the moment, that meant that this plan of theirs was on them, and that didn’t sit too well with him. He had no favors to call in and no other solutions, so he decided to head back to the bunker, empty handed.

  
  


    “Bollocks.”

  
  


XxX

  
  


    “Get your Casper asses out here!” Dean yelled once he and Sam were inside Waverly Hills Sanatorium. They were setting up a room for capturing the ghosts, but none of them had really shone their faces thus far.

  
  


    “You know what? Why don’t you finish up. I’ll go piss them off,” Sam told him.

  
  


    “Yeah,” Dean replied, taking the container of salt from Sam. He finished laying a salt line around the room, setting up a trap to shoot once the entered through the door, his bag laying in the center of the room. Sam took to shooting ghosts with his rocksalt shotgun while Dean stuck with an iron fireplace poker. By the time he got back into the room, there was an angry horde of ghosts behind him.

  
  


    “Okay, I think it worked!” Sam yelled. Dean swung the poker through a particularly intimidating looking ghost before baseball sliding over to the bag, searching frantically for the crystal. Another ghost knocked it out of his hands, but another swing of the poker took care of it. Dean scrambled over to the crystal as Sam ran into the intimidating ghost, who hoisted him up with one hand, choking him. “Say the magic word! Dean, hurry!” 

  
  


    Tossing the crystal into the center of the room, Dean yelled, “Haggis!” and the boys watched as the ghosts were quickly sucked into the now glowing purple crystal. Sam fell to the floor, gasping for breath, before he and Dean made their way over to the crystal, eyeing it appreciatively. 

  
  


    “Go magic word,” Sam commented. “Huh.”

  
  


    “Yeah,” Dean agreed tiredly. Packing up everything they’d brought along, they walked out the door, heading back to the bunker, but not before a familiar face appeared to watch them go. She felt around the building, but couldn’t detect a single loose soul. Those Winchesters have some explaining to do.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Castiel returned to the bunker first, face grim, appearing in the war room, where everyone else had gathered. Rowena and Adam were seated beside Chuck and Gabriel. Gabriel sat facing Chuck, almost as if in a trance. His veins were illuminated with grace, eyes glowing electric blue, intently focused on healing Chuck. Chuck seemed to have a bit more color in his face, which was a good sign, but Gabriel looked even more exhausted than He did at this point. With a wave of his hand, Gabriel suddenly stopped, and looked to his Father, bewildered. Chuck ruffled his hair affectionately.

  
  


    “You’ve done what you can, son. Save your strength.” Gabriel sighed and looked away, resigned. 

  
  


    Crowley appeared next, taking a seat at the map table with a scowl. He and Castiel shared a look, and it seemed obvious that both had failed to bring back souls for the cause, which left Sam and Dean. A few minutes later, the bunker door opened, and the boys came down with triumphant looks on their faces, which quickly vanished when they took in the state of their allies. Dean took a seat on the table, Sam opting to stand. “So, I’m going to assume things didn’t go so great on your end?” Dean asked both Castiel and Crowley. Castiel shook his head and Crowley hummed in irritation.

  
  


    “The angels-- Heaven won’t help,” Castiel confirmed. 

  
  


    “They know that this is the end, right? Of everything.”

  
  


    “Yes.”

  
  


    “And they don’t care?” Sam questioned, annoyed.

  
  


    “No, it’s not that. It’s… They know--” Castiel pointed to Chuck. “They know God is dying and they don’t think we can win this. Souls or no souls. They’re sealing Heaven and they’re, quote, ‘dying with dignity.’” He rolled his eyes at that. Dean threw a hand up in exasperation.

  
  


    “Well, that’s awesome.”

  
  


    “Alright, Crowley. What about you?” Sam asked the demon.       

  
  


    “Well, I  _ had _ all the souls we needed--”

  
  


    “What do you mean  _ had? _ ” Dean interrupted. 

  
  


    “While I was indisposed, a few of my demonic pals decided to raid my stash,” he bit out.

  
  


    “Well, what we have-- It’s not enough,” Castiel told them. Before he could say more, the lights in the bunker flashed red, and an echo of footsteps could be heard from up the stairs.

  
  


    “Well that could be nothing but good news,” Crowley sniped. Everyone’s eyes turned to the door to the bunker, Sam and Dean pulling out their guns, Castiel and Gabriel pulling out their angel blades, ready for a fight. The door creaked open and a familiar reaper strolled in, briefly taking in the room. Sam, Dean, and Castiel lowered their weapons and Gabriel followed soon after.

  
  


    “Nice digs,” she remarked.

  
  


    “Billie?” Sam asked.

  
  


    “Who’s Billie?” Rowena questioned.

  
  


    “Reaper,” Dean answered with a false smile. “Wants us dead. Tons of fun.” As she passed Crowley at the bottom of the steps, she smiled mischievously at him.

  
  


    “Hey,” she greeted. Crowley smirked back.

  
  


    “Wait a second. H-How did you-- What are you doing here?” Sam demanded to know.

  
  


    Crossing her arms, eyebrow quirked, she replied, “I saw you boys at Waverly Hills  _ and _ … Call me a curious kitten, but with, you know, credits about to roll, I gotta ask-- Why you boys busting ghosts?”

  
  


    “Why do you care?” Dean asked her.

  
  


    “Dead folks? Kind of my thing,” she stated matter of factly. “So…  **Spill** .” She seemed to take the plan in stride, going as far as to pick up the crystal and obtain more souls for them. The crystal burst to life brightly and a mass of souls all flew into existence, quickly being absorbed, causing the boys to duck their heads until she was finished. 

  
  


    When she was finished, Castiel asked her, “How many souls are in there?”

  
  


    “A couple hundred… thousand.” Sam and Rowena looked at her wide eyed as Rowena took back the crystal. “I raided the Veil. Like I said, dead folks? Kind of my thing.” She turned to Rowena. “We good.”

  
  


    “Very,” Rowena confirmed.

  
  


    “Super.” She began her leave.

  
  


    “See you around,” Dean told her.

  
  


    “Yeah. You will,” she responded. “Just hope it’s not today.” She looked to the demon in the room. “Crowley,” she addressed him with a twinkle in her eye before exiting the bunker. He smiled to himself before he felt all eyes on him, frowning. Chuck told them he could track Amara since she wouldn’t be warded anymore, having won and all. When it was asked how to get close enough to Amara to detonate the bomb, it was brought up that the person with the bomb needed a personal connection. Since Chuck wasn’t really an option, all eyes fell on Dean, who sighed and asked how to hide the bomb. The words that came next sucked the breath out of the room.

  
  


    “You won’t carry the bomb. You’ll be the bomb,” Rowena told him. Looks of despair flitted across the room. “I’m going to take what’s in here,” Rowena indicated the crystal. “And put it… In here.” She indicated Dean’s chest. “Once you get close to her, you press your fingers together like so…  _ Boom _ .” She demonstrated, then looked to Dean, who nodded in understanding. 

  
  


    “Okay,” he whispered, trying not to sound like the wreck he was inside. Rowena put some space between them and told Dean to stand still, facing her. Holding the crystal in the palm of one hand, she pointed the other above it at Dean.

 

    “ _ Sine mora surgatis, _ ” she uttered, and the souls blasted into Dean’s chest in a beam of light. He silently screamed as pure energy engulfed his insides, panting heavily when the process was done.

  
  


    “Dean, are you okay?” Castiel asked after a moment. “How do you feel?”

  
  


    “Like my insides just got flame-broiled,” came the breathless answer. He exhaled loudly. “Is that normal?”

  
  


    “Sweety, we’re so far past normal,” Rowena responded. “You’ve got about an hour, maybe a wee bit more, then you’re literally a walking ticking time bomb.” The room went silent then, and nobody moved for the longest time before Dean fished the keys of the Impala out of his pocket. He and Sam made eye contact, and the two looked to their angels, who nodded, teleporting the rest of the room to the cemetery where Mary Winchester was buried. The brothers drove there in silence, not wanting to discuss things until they got there. When they did, Dean parked the Impala, and he and Sam made their way to their mother’s grave, staring down at it, letting the weight of the situation sink in, until Sam couldn’t take it anymore.

  
  


    “Dean, you know you don’t have to do this,” he told Dean, neither able to meet the other’s eyes.

  
  


    “ ‘Course I do. I just have to get close. I can do that, okay? I can do that.”

  
  


    “…You know, if this works, um… That bomb goes off…”

  
  


    “I know,” he told Sam, finally looking at him. He clapped Sam on the shoulder before going to rejoin the group. Sam laid a kiss upon his mother’s gravestone and followed. “You cool with this?” Dean asked a barely standing Chuck.

  
  


    “No. I-- Even after everything she’s done, Amara’s still my sister. She’s my family. I can’t-- I don’t want to see her dead, but…”

  
  


    “Yeah?”

  
  


    “… I understand,” he finished with a sad smile. Dean then turned to Rowena, who gave him a smirk. He nodded to her before turning to Crowley.

  
  


    “So this is it for you, squirrel.”

  
  


    “Looks like. At least I’ll go out with a bang… Listen, Crowley, I’m not saying I like you anymore than I do Lucifer, but--”

  
  


    “Don’t beat around the bush now… I’ll miss you too, Dean.” Dean let out a short laugh and shook the hand Crowley was offering him, patting him on the arm.

  
  


    “Take back your throne for me, huh?” He made his way over to Adam, who wore an unreadable look. “Adam.”

  
  


    “Dean.”

  
  


    “Look, I know the last time you were around, we were pretty crappy brothers. I just… I wish we could’ve saved you. I wish we could’ve been the brothers you deserved. And I wish we had more time. It would’ve been nice to hunt by your side.” Adam granted him a small smile.

  
  


    “Yours too,” he admitted quietly. Dean paused, before speaking again.

  
  


    “Alright, come here.” He pulled Adam into a hug that was reciprocated after a moment of hesitation. “You watch Sam’s back, you hear?” He nodded, and Dean turned to Gabriel, who walked over to him from Chuck. Dean sighed before addressing Gabriel. “You’re still here,” he commented.

  
  


    “There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be,” Gabriel replied seriously. Dean regarded him for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

  
  


    “You know, I used to think you were a dick, like any other standard angel, someone we couldn’t trust, someone out to save his own skin, a coward…” Gabriel raised an eyebrow before Dean finished his statement. “But I was wrong. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still a dick, but I’d trust you with my life, and I’d trust you with my brother’s life.” His eyes quickly flitted to Sam before returning to Gabriel. “You look after Sammy, you hear me? You be there for him, and you make him happy, alright?”

  
  


    “Until the day I day,” Gabriel assured him. “It was nice knowing you, Dean-o.”  

  
  


    “Dean.” And that left one last person to say goodbye to.

  
  


    “Cas.” The two embraced briefly, and neither wanted to let go, but they found the strength to.

  
  


    “I could go with you.”

  
  


    “No no no. No, I got to do this alone… Listen, if-- When--  _ When _ this works, Sam… He’s going to be a mess, so look out for him, okay? Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

  
  


    “Of course,” Castiel promised. They gazed into each other’s eyes before closing the distance between them with one more lingering kiss.

  
  


    Resting their foreheads together, Dean told him, “Thank you… For everything…” He put on a brave face before addressing everyone again. “I want a big funeral, alright? I’m talking epic. Okay? Open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy.”

  
  


    “Done,” Sam promised.

  
  


    “And for my ashes, I like it here,” Dean finished, looking thoughtfully over the landscape. “Yeah… You know, as far as eternal resting places go.” Chuck nodded to him. Dean composed himself as much as he could before pulling the keys to the Impala out and making his way over to Sam. The two were barely holding back tears, Sam shaking his head as Dean told him, “Come on. You know the drill. No chick-flick moments. Come on.” Sam took a moment before accepting the keys.      

  
  


    “Yeah, you love chick flicks…” he stated with a chuckle.

  
  


    “Yeah. You’re right I do. Come here.” He pulled Sam into  a heartfelt embrace, both of them holding onto the other until they forced themselves apart, not wanting to linger. Dean walked back over to Chuck and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do. “Okay. Let’s do this.” With a sigh, Chuck snapped his fingers, and Dean was gone.

  
  


XxX

  
  


    While the rest of the team found themselves a bar to lay low in, nursing drinks and holding onto the rest of daylight, Dean found himself in an unfamiliar place, filled with beautiful arrays of flowers and architecture. He looked around at the bright colors, the yellows, the pinks, the purples, the blues, the white, and then his eyes fell on a cluster of flowers that were black and withered. Turning around, he found Amara staring back at him, sitting on the fountain in the center of the area. He went into a rehearsed speech of wanting to become a part of her if it meant avoiding watching his friends and family die with the rest of the world, but she saw right through him, commenting on the amount of power radiating from him because of the souls. She then went on to reveal that Chuck dying, not her actions, was causing the sun to dim. She told him that once Chuck was gone, everything, even her, would cease to exist. Some of her anger at Chuck manifested again when she brought up how he locked her away, tried to hurt her. And then…

  
  


    “He sent you to execute me,” she claimed.

  
  


    “No no. No,” Dean stopped her. “He zapped me here, yes, but he didn’t want this. This wasn’t His idea. You’re family. He doesn’t want you dead! He doesn’t want any of this!” He took a deep breath. That gave him an idea, and though this kind of thing wasn’t really his area of expertise, he was really glad Sam was his brother. Connecting with people, understanding their intentions, mending broken bonds… Maybe he could fix this, and get out of this alive. Maybe… “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, venturing out on a limb and hoping to Chuck this strategy worked.

  
  


    “No! I just wanted to hurt him… I wanted to make him pay,” she growled. 

  
  


    “Yeah, that’s revenge. It’ll get you out of bed in the morning, and when you get it, it feels great… For about five minutes.” Amara looked to him then. “I’ve been there. Me and Sam-- We’ve had our fair share of fights--more than our share--but no matter how bad it got, we always made it right  _ because _ we’re family. I need him’ he needs me. And when everything goes to crap, that’s all you’ve got-- Family. Now you might be a-- An all-powerful being… But I think you’re human where it counts. You simply need your brother--”

  
  


    “Just stop,” she scoffed, trying to cut him off.

  
  


    “You don’t want to be alone, not really. I mean, Hell. Maybe that’s why you wanted me. But deep down, you didn’t really want me… ‘cause I’m not Him… So maybe I  **can** kill you. Maybe I can’t. Maybe if I pull this trigger, we all live happily ever after,” he proposed, lifting his right hand. “Or maybe we die bloody, or maybe it doesn’t matter… Because maybe there’s a different way… So I’m going to ask you again. Put aside the rage. Put aside the hate. And you tell me… What do you  **want** ?” Amara bit her lip and let out a defeated sigh, gaze cast downward.

  
  


    “I want my brother back… I want to be able to spend time with Him and just be a family again… Like it used to be.” She looked back up at Dean, who wore a sympathetic expression.

  
  


    “Then tell Him that,” he stated simply. She sighed in disbelief before concentrating on her brother and bringing Him there. She stood, and Chuck suddenly appeared, seated at the fountain he arrived on. Back at the bar, Sam called His name out in alarm after His disappearance, to no avail. Chuck’s head whipped about panic until His eyes fell on Amara.

  
  


    Getting to His feet, He questioned, “Why did you bring me here?”

  
  


    “Brother, I…” Amara froze. Chuck looked to her and then to Dean, who met Amara’s gaze and encouraged her to continue. “In the beginning… It was just you and me, and we were family. I loved you, and I thought--I  _ knew _ \--that you loved me.” 

  
  


    “I did,” he assured her, stepping closer. “I do.”

  
  


    “But then you went and you made all these other things. I hated them,” she admitted. “I hated you for needing something else, something that wasn’t me,” she clarified. “And then you locked me away, and all I could think about was making you suffer.” Chuck nodded.

  
  


    “You had your reasons.”

  
  


    “I did. And I thought revenge would make me happy…” she told him tearily. “But I was wrong.” She looked around at the life around her, the flowers and the birds. “What you’ve made…. It’s beautiful… It took me a long time to see that.” Chuck sniffled, holding back tears of his own. “I know that we can’t go back to the way things were. I don’t want to, but I wish… I wish that we could just be family again.”

  
  


    “I do too,” Chuck told her with a smile, holding His hand out to her. She took it, and a golden light began emanating from their joined hands. Dean watched it heal Chuck back to his normal self, and turn the sun back up to its usual brightness. 

  
  


    Upon the sun’s return to normal, Sam and everyone else filed outside, watching the world return to normal. They’d done it.  **Dean** had done it. Dean… 

  
  


    Dean watched Amara finish healing Chuck, and they both turned to him with sincere grins. “I think… We’re just going to go away for a while and--”

  
  


   “Hey, yeah. Family meeting. I get it,” Dean told him.

  
  


    “But first…” Chuck went over to Dean and placed a hand on his chest, drawing out all the extra souls nd sending them back to the Veil. Dean gasped as the last one left, letting out a huge breath. “Better?” It was then that the part about “going away for a while” sank in.

  
  


    “What about us? …What about Earth?”

  
  


    “Earth will be fine. It’s got you… And Sam.” He rejoined Amara’s side, taking her hand again as she spoke.

  
  


    “Dean… You gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.” Dean caught her eye, the sincerity and gratitude, before she and Chuck dissolved into swirling masses of light and darkness, ascending until they were out of sight. Dean sighed as he was once again left alone, with no idea where he was. The first thing he needed to do was find the nearest town. Leaving the area he was in, he tried to find his way as the sun went down, spending a few hours wandering through the area, pushing aside brush as he tried to figure out just where he was, failing to get a signal on his phone. That’s when a woman’s call for help caught his attention, and he pushed forward into a clearing. He stopped when he saw who it was, not believing his eyes. Before him, stood in the same clothes she died in, just like he remembered her, was… 

  
  


    “Mom?”

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Sam, Adam, and Castiel entered the bunker after parting ways with Rowena and Crowley, who left to do their own thing. Crowley said something about taking a little vacation, maybe Australia? Gabriel agreed to drop Rowena off at a destination of her choosing, promising to catch up with them when he could. Sam dragged his feet as they made their way inside. Adam walked beside Castiel, both worried for Sam. “Sam… We’re here for you if you want to talk, if you need anything,” Castiel assured him.

  
  


    “Hello, hello,” a voice called from up ahead, before a banishing sigil sent Castiel careening out of the bunker with a scream, momentarily blinding Sam and Adam. When they looked again, Castiel was gone. 

  
  


    “Cas!” Sam called, before rounding on the intruder, going for his gun.

  
  


    “Don’t,” she warned him, swiftly pulling out her own. “Sam Winchester. Toni Bevell. Men of Letters, London Chapterhouse.” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, you won’t have heard of me--us. We’re very traditional. Keep out of the way, keep to our studies.” Adam looked between them in confusion.

  
  


    “You, uh… What?”

  
  


    “They sent me to take you in.”

  
  


    “To take me in?”

  
  


    “Assuming the world didn’t end, and, yay,” she claimed with a smile.

  
  


    “Look lady--” Sam tried to say.

  
  


    “We’ve been watching you, Sam. What you’ve done the damage you’ve caused: archangels, leviathans, the Darkness, and now, well… The old men have decided enough’s enough. I mean, let’s face it, Sam. You’re just a jumped up hunter playing with things you don’t understand and doing more harm than good. Now, where’s Dean?”

  
  


    Sam glared, and spat brokenly, “Dead.” She seemed taken aback, sympathetic even, for a moment before she saw the anger on Sam’s face. “Listen, lady, I don’t know who the Hell you think you are--”

  
  


    “Stop,” she commanded when he took a step forward, cocking her gun. Adam gulped, not knowing what to do. 

  
  


    “Put the gun down,” he told her with another step.

  
  


    “I said, stop,” she repeated a bit shakily.

  
  


    “You and I both know you’re not going to pull the trigger.” He took another step.  _ Bam! _ The bullet went straight into Sam’s leg and he collapsed with a pained cry.

  
  


    “Sam!” Adam screamed, going to his side. She aimed her gun at Adam as well. 

  
  


    “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in my way, and I’d like to avoid any more unnecessary casualties,” she told him cooly. Adam scowled, standing and making his way over to her with not so good intentions. Faster than he could comprehend, she pistol whipped him, hard, in the back of the head, dazing him, before sending him crashing into the wall, knocking him out cold. She took a shaky breath. This… Was not how she anticipated this going. She didn’t think he’d be accompanied by anyone other than the angel, and she didn’t account for shooting him. She was done for unless she could get some real answers from him. Stepping over an unconscious Adam, she knocked Sam unconscious as well before hoisting him up with a bit of effort, walking them out to the exit through the garage, where a car was waiting for them. Tying a gag around his mouth and a tourniquet around his gunshot wound, her driver helped lift him into the back before they drove off. First thing’s first, they needed a doctor for the leg wound, someone discreet who they could have get the work done and leave without a fuss. There was a clinic not too far from the area…

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Gabriel cried out in pain, clutching the lower part of his left leg and stumbling forward, dropping to his knees. He’d been helping Rowena settle into a temporary living situation in a city that wouldn’t question her. He was finding his way around the place, admiring a few things, when the pain shot down his leg. She was at his side in a heartbeat, and he gritted his teeth as she helped him back to his feet.

  
  


    “What’s happened?” she asked, concerned. He groaned, and it wasn’t until his head began pounding, as if he’d been struck with a blunt object, that it hit him.

  
  


    “Sam,” he uttered in alarm. He wasn’t in the bunker. From what he could tell from the silent mind link, he wasn’t even conscious. He gave Rowena a short goodbye before flying to the bunker. He arrived in the war room, and the first thing that caught his eye was Adam, slumped over under a used angel banishing sigil. He couldn’t sense his brother anywhere. As he approached Adam, he saw a trail of blood leading further into the bunker. After healing any injuries he may have sustained, Gabriel left an awakening Adam to follow the trail. It led to the garage, which was where it suddenly stopped. There were tire tracks leading out, the smell of burnt rubber indicating that they’d been in a hurry. Whoever they were, they knew about the bunker, about the angels, about Sam. They were dangerous, and as he helped Adam to his feet to ask what had happened, one thing was for sure. Eyes flashing blue in fury, he swore to Chuck that whoever did this was going to be very,  **_very_ ** sorry they’d messed with the archangel Gabriel. 

  
  


XxX

  
  


    Michael and Lucifer walked side by side together through a quiet city street, taking in the sounds around them in peace. The sun had brightened back to normal, which meant the Winchesters had done it again. Now that the Darkness was gone and their Father well, that left them with one question. What did they do now?

  
  


    “What’s on your mind?” Michael asked Lucifer, who’d been unnaturally quiet thus far. Lucifer let out a long breath before speaking.

  
  


    “Have you ever thought about, I don’t know… Settling down?” Michael looked to him in surprise. “I know it’s a strange question, considering we’ve already mated and Heaven’s kind of, you know… But I just…” Michael studied him thoughtfully as they continued along the street.

  
  


    “Where would we go?”

  
  


    “Wherever you want,” Lucifer immediately responded. “I… I don’t want to mess this up, Michael. Not this time. Forget the Apocalypse, forget about the Winchesters and their agenda. I just want to live the rest of my life with you. I just got you back…” He met Michael’s eyes uncertainly. “I want to make it up to you.” Michael thought about what Lucifer was telling him, not believing his ears, but unable to feel anything but pure joy at the thought of reconnecting with his mate.

  
  


    “When humans discuss “settling down” as you called it… That involves a home and a job… A family… We… We can’t exactly have that.”

  
  


    “Then we’ll get as close to that as we can. I know a fledgling of our own is out of the question, but… Can’t we at least try?” Lucifer’s eyes were pleading, and Michael couldn’t deny that the idea sounded appealing. He nodded, and as they walked off into the sunset, Lucifer’s last thought was, ‘ _ I’d love for us to raise a son together. _ ’        

  
  


Closing A/N: Aaaaand… It’s finally hit me. This is the last chapter of  Sacrifices , next post being a sneak peek of the sequel notwithstanding. I just want to thank anyone who’s read, reviewed, commented, bookmarked, followed, favorited, etc. at any point. It’s been amazing to share this work with you, and I couldn’t have done it without you guys!!! Here’s to at least one more fic! :)

 

*Shoutout to Wolflover235 on Fanfiction.net for the continued support and reviews. Your confidence helped me write up the parts I wasn’t sure about posting, and kept me going during some of the harder days. Shoutout also to VegasGranny for the support and encouragement for the last few chapters.

 

*Shoutout to xanydee and Theta_Milla on AO3 for their patience, kind words, and continued support. You guys are awesome! Shoutout also to HARTandSOLwrites for helping me with a later chapter, offering their input into the characters, and giving me a great prompt for a crossover fic.


	16. Sequel Sneak Peeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rough look at next fic's plot, which is a mix of: peril, danger, things not being the way they seem, and a healthy serving of badassery. :) Enjoy!

Sequel Sneak Peak

  
  


A/N: So, this here will consist of snippets of plot points addressed in the sequel. Most of them are taken out of context here, so not everything is how it first appears. They’re first drafts of  _ potential _ scenes anyway. Also, just a forewarning now, I will be butchering the season 12 plot heavily, because I just really hate the British Men of Letters, and, in my opinion, just like season 7, it had an okay plot and its moments, but I didn’t like a lot of what I saw. Also also, they killed Mick… That kind of made me upset. Anyway, enjoy some sneak peaks!

  
  


_ The Road So Far…  _

  
  


_ “Saving people. Hunting things. The family business.” _ __   
  


 

__ _ Gabriel, the youngest and most mischievous archangel that God created, was alive. _

  
  


_     To say that Dean Winchester was excited was the understatement of the century. They had an archangel on their side that could help them with Amara, even if it was his least favorite trickster, he could finally openly express his love to Castiel, and Sam was back to his old self. _

  
  


_     Castiel was fucking glowing like the lights on a Christmas tree, staring down some woman, no angel, with murder in his eyes, wings spread intimidatingly and power radiating from inside the room. He and Sam put hands in front of their faces as the wind in the library whipped objects dangerously around them. _

  
  


_     Lucifer turned and grinned. “Dean! Uh, the other one.” He snaps his fingers and traps them both in the Cage, inadvertently trapping Gabriel with them as well. “Welcome to the party,” he rumbled in a low voice. Castiel, Sam, and Dean radiated panic and uncertainty. Gabriel saw Sam spitting out blood, attention going to Lucifer. “Scared?” he asked them.  _

 

 

_     “You're sure you wanna know? Fine. Just like humans, angels have their versions of soulmates, usually another angel. Angels are one of the only creatures, other than a few high ranking demons and dad in my experience, who can touch another angel’s wings. It’s supposed to be really intimate and romantic, apparently, if another creature can touch and see them. Angels find their soulmates when that certain someone can touch the angel’s grace with their own, or, in a human’s case, with their soul…” An uncomfortable silence fell upon the kitchen. Honey golden brown eyes met hazel ones. “… You’re my soulmate, Sam.” _

 

 

_     Jokingly, Gabriel began, “Alright Cassandra, Lucile.” He suddenly became serious. “Spill. I know Lucifer’s in there with you, Castiel. What I want to know is why?” _

 

 

_     Sam found that sleep came easy to him that night. Dean, however… He tried in vain, settling under the covers and willing his eyes to stay closed. Something just wouldn’t stop bothering him though. Castiel seemed so casual about his admissions. His angel was definitely forgiving, but his last outburst had been about his feelings for Chuck’s sake! Something wasn’t quite right with the situation. For some reason, his mind supplied him with a traitorous thought, one he knew couldn’t be true. He couldn’t shake the feeling though, the feeling that… ‘  _ **_That wasn’t Cas .’_ **

 

 

**** _  “Michael…” Gabriel couldn’t even form a full sentence, a tear (several in reality, but no one needed to know that) slid down his face as he surveyed the visible damage. _

 

 

_     “Michael,” the blonde heard one of the angels whisper in awe, finally breaking the disbelieving silence on the field. “You’ve returned.” _

 

 

_     “Dean,” Sam gasped from the floor, “That’s not Cas!” In an instant, deja vu hit Dean like a trainwreck. The revelation, the anger, the pain in his heart. He turned to look at Lucifer, who wore a completely unapologetic smile. _

 

 

_     “Guess again, Samoose,” he replied quietly. The pet name sounded foreign in Adam’s voice. Dean’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and Sam let out an astonished breath. _

 

 

_     “Explain what, exactly?” Dean questioned, struggling to get to his feet. Bracing himself against the table, he attempted to push himself up, denying Sam’s offer to help. Panting slightly from the effort, standing on semi-steady legs, he continued. “You’ve been missing for weeks, haven’t said a word, didn’t even have the decency to let Sam in on whatever it was you were going to do. Then… You show up wearing  _ **_our brother_ ** _ as a meatsuit and expect us to just, what, forgive you for up and disappearing?!” _

 

 

_     “Castiel’s not like that. He’s stronger, wiser, different. He understands being an angel and being human, right from wrong, free will. He’ll survive! I know he will! Whether he’ll change in time for our meeting with Amara is the question. We don’t have a lot of time.” _

 

 

_      “No,” she interrupted Sam. “He’s dying. My brother will dim… And fade away into nothing. But not until he sees what comes next, not until he watches this world, everything he created, everything he loves, turn to ash… Welcome to the end.” _

 

 

_     “You gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.” _

 

 

_     “Mom?” _

 

 

XxX

A Look Down the Road…

 

  
\-----

    There’s a reason the rest of the world knew him as the the Trickster, the pagan god Loki. The warding around that house might keep out angels, but it didn’t keep out pagans. Using the pagan magic he had (thank you, Loki), he sent an illusion of himself in, finding Sam worse for wear, chained to a chair, locked in a room. Dean hung by his wrists beside him, having been captured, the idiot. Cameras, warding, and security measures be damned, no one was keeping him from his hunter, and whoever was here was about to feel. His.  **_Wrath._ ** And Mary’s of course. Clearing the front door so it was safe to enter the house, she followed his illusion to the room where Sam and Dean were being kept. She marched forward ahead of him and pulled out her gun.

 

    “Get away from my boys,” she ordered Lady Bevell, she and Sam both shocked while Dean looked on with a shit eating grin.

 

    “Mom?” Sam asked, incredulous.

 

    “Yeah,” Dean told him proudly, to which Sam responded with a bewildered look. After Mary had her drop the weapon, she went to catch Mary off guard with an attack when another unfamiliar figure came into view. Gabriel strode into with his arms crossed, a sucker in his mouth, looking ready to burn the whole house to the ground if she tried anything.

 

    “And who might you be?” she asked cautiously. Sam was still too stunned to speak, and Dean was too busy grinning to. Thank Chuck for small favors, because Gabriel  **really** didn’t need anyone blowing his cover. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow, an unreadable look in his eyes, before extracting the sucker from his mouth with an icy smirk.

 

    “The name’s Loki.” He took a few steps forward until he was just a few inches from her face. His eyes glowed emerald with magic and his smirk morphed into a scowl as he growled, “And you’re going to  **_pay_ ** .”

\-----

    Michael sent his grace throughout Heaven, scanning for any nearby siblings. HQ was almost empty, and there was no one near the Garden or the soul rooms. Something wasn’t right here. He checked a few of the more frequented spots (certain conference and gathering rooms, the armory, the dungeons) until he came across the infirmary where…

 

    “What in Father’s name?” Michael uttered, turning the heads of a few. Many of his sibling laid unconscious or dead in the overcrowded room. There were two angels currently healing either someone else or themself. One of them was Dmitri, who he didn’t necessarily like, but who he knew was a valuable asset to Heaven. Not only was he a seraph and a great warrior, but he had turned out to be a surprisingly strong healer. The other, who was closing up a huge gash in her side, was Ameliel, Heaven’s head healer. She looked drained and about to pass out on her feet. Michael quickly hurried to her side, moving her hand away from the room and easily closing it himself.

 

    “Michael,” Dmitri greeted, head bowed in respect, before refocusing on the task at hand.

 

    “What has happened here?” Michael asked Ameliel, who gave him a half smile in thanks before getting slowly to her feet, going back to tending to patients. 

 

     “After you left again and the sun began dying, you know that Castiel came to visit.” He’d been out of the loop for a while, so this was news, but he nodded anyway. “He was asking for souls in a last attempt to get rid of the Darkness. At the time, panic and fear had spread throughout the Host, and most wanted to seal Heaven.” She mumbled something, annoyed, under her breath that Michael thought was, “Die with dignity.” She sighed. “Those that didn’t wanted to leave Heaven, wanted to break away from the cowards and the fools, as they called them. They wanted to return to Earth and fight, despite knowing they’d lose. If there was any way to die with dignity, they said, it was to die in battle.”

 

    “And did they leave?”

 

    “After our Father was healed and the sun returned, yes. However…” She went silent, and Dmitri picked up where she left off.

 

    “Some squadrons decided that those that left were not worthy to return for daring to disobey the majority of the Host. They began hunting them down… Those that survived the encounters found themselves back here. The others… We sent out search parties and had their bodies brought back.” Michael closed his eyes, despair and anger at war inside him.

 

    “Were the two sides the same sides at war when I put a stop to the fighting?” he asked.

 

    “Yes. Those that still believed in Castiel chose to leave, while those that remained loyal to Heaven chose to hunt them down,” Ameliel confirmed. 

 

    “Our numbers?” he asked, dreading the answer.

 

    “Dwindling.” 

 

    “At last count?”

 

    “Less than 500.”

\-----

    “Wait a minute. You know them?” Dean asked Gabriel, who was perched on Sam’s lap, a guarded look on his face.

 

    “Not them personally, but I know  _ of _ them and who they’re associated with.” He didn’t elaborate, even with Dean’s “Go on,” gesture.

 

    “Dean… Why don’t we just drop the--” Sam began, but Dean wasn’t having it.

 

    “No, Sam, let’s  _ not _ drop the subject. We have almost gotten killed way too many times by people after  **him** . I want an explanation!”

 

    “I’m wanted by a lot of people, okay? It doesn’t matter whether I’m Loki or, or, Gabriel. I’ve screwed up, a lot. I got people killed, I showed off a bit too much around the wrong people, and now everyone wants me for different reasons. I’m putting you in danger. I get that, but you’ll be in a whole lot more if I leave.” Gabriel was upset, and he honestly didn’t have a solution to the situation. There was no disguise he could don, nowhere he could disappear, no one else he could turn to, without someone paying the price for his mistakes. “They know you’re important to me, and they’ll do whatever they can to get to you. It’s safer if I’m here, protecting you, than if I were to leave and try to draw them away.”

 

    “What about Michael and Lucifer?” Sam asked, and Gabriel snorted. “Couldn’t they help you?”

 

    “Michael’s still trying to put Heaven back together after the whole angel kamikaze thing that happened. Luci? Luci’s off on some secret mission of his. Something about rogue angels and the president, I think.”

 

    “ _ Right _ . He’s  _ totally _ not making a power grab by controlling the President of the Freaking United States. And you’re just going to trust him on that?” Dean questioned. 

 

    “Yes,” Gabriel told him firmly, starting to get a bit angry. “I am. If you’d like to just stroll into the White House and question him yourself, be my guest, but when a security detail armed with angel blades shows up to shiv your asses, don’t blame me!”

\-----

    Sam was down, Gabriel was down, Crowley was down, Adam was down, and he was weaponless. Lucifer strolled calmly away from the Rift, advancing on Dean with a menacing smirk, angel blade clutched firmly in his hand, dripping with blood. Castiel’s blood. Castiel… As soon as he’d stepped through, Lucifer had put the blade through his chest, and Dean watched his soulmate die right before his eyes. Again. He heard a deep, rumbling chuckle from the Devil that sent icy shivers down his spine, making his hair stand on end. “You lose, Dean.” He was almost right on top of him now. Just a few more steps… There wasn’t anything he could do about it. Dean closed his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable.

 

    He heard the blade connect with flesh, slicing through it with ease, felt blood dripping through his shirt, but no pain. What the…? “That’s not possible,” Lucifer whispered, stunned, backing away. Dean’s eyes snapped open, and looming above him, eyes glowing bright electric blue, six sleek black wings cocooning them, a smirk on his face, was--

 

    “Cas?” Dean uttered at the breathtaking being above him, who pulled the blade out of his chest with ease, tossing it away. “How…?”

 

    “I swore to always protect you, Dean, to give my life so that you might live yours, and save others.  _ This _ was the missing piece.” Realization dawned on him a that statement, and Dean grinned widely as Castiel got up off of him, helping him to his feet before turning to face Lucifer. “Hello, brother.”  Lucifer growled, procuring another angel blade out of thin air. 

 

    “So that’s how it’s going to be.” Castiel eyed the blade, amused, before pulling a darker, twisted version. An archangel blade, the color of Castiel’s feathers, gleaming ominously in the moonlight. Lucifer’s face fell and he paled at the sight. His archangel blade was hidden somewhere in Heaven, lost in the confusion of the battles during the Fall.

 

    “You were saying?” Castiel asked smugly. Dean chuckled at his side and Lucifer sighed.

 

    “That’s not fair.”

\-----  

    Castiel had held his own against Lucifer fairly long, but Chuck’s words soon came to the forefront of everyone’s minds. 

 

_ “And Castiel will have new levels of power, new abilities to navigate even if he did change in time.” _

 

    No one could get a handle on that kind of power right away, and it was starting to show. Lucifer was much more comfortable with his powers, and slowly,  _ slowly _ began beating Castiel back. Eventually, an exhausted Castiel fell back to Dean and Sam’s side, shielding them even though he knew he might be outmatched. The menacing smirk was back on Lucifer’s face as he made his way confidently towards them. Then  **she** came marching out of the house, face determined, in protective mom mode.

 

    “Get away from my boys,” she growled at Lucifer, coming to stand  _ in front _ of Castiel. Sam, Dean, and Castiel gaped at her in shock. Lucifer looked pleasantly surprised. 

 

    “Mary, right? I’ve heard about you. You, uh, are certainly living up to the hype.” He attempted a cat growl with a laugh, not noticing her slip Enochian brass knuckles on behind her back. “Look, seriously, I just wanted to say thank you, for everything. I owe you, kid.” With a death glare, she started forward, before Dean took her arm to hold her back. 

 

    “Mom, mom, hey.” She looked back at them fondly, Castiel shielding Sam and Dean, Dean shielding an unconscious Adam, Sam shielding an unconscious Gabriel.

 

    “I love you,” she told them, in case this was the last time she saw them alive. She continued forward and put all of her strength into clobbering Lucifer in the jaw, making him stumble back, startling the boys. He tasted blood in his mouth but continued to smirk.

 

    “Cute,” he commented as she looked down at the knuckles in worry. “Is that all you got, momma?” That was the last straw. With all the pent up fury and frustration that had built up since she’d been resurrected, she connected with blow after blow, sending Lucifer reeling, the boys watching her wide eyed. 

 

    Seven punches. Mary landed seven punches on Lucifer, and, as she landed the last punch, her boys watched in awe as she twisted  _ just  _ out of Lucifer’s grasp, delivering a swift kick that sent him sailing into the rift to the other universe with a howl. The rift closed promptly behind him, and Mary was left panting, staring at the spot where he’d disappeared before turning to her boys with a tired grin.

\-----

Closing A/N: And that’ll be all for the sneak peeks, folks. Again, thank you so so much everyone for reading this far and sticking with me throughout the course of the fic!!! I can’t give a definitive date for when the sequel will be up, because rewriting a whole season is hard, but keep an eye out for a first chapter in the next few months. Also, season 13 was interesting, and I’m  **_definitely_ ** not missing a chance to write Jack into our story, so… You’re getting two more fics after this one. :) Hopefully, this is just enough to keep you interested in our sequel until it arrives. Until then, see you guys later!


End file.
